The Order: The Ties that Bind
by Shulamith Bonderovsky
Summary: The continuing adventures of Gaya and the New Sith Order. An old enemy has returned to the galaxy, to destroy everything the Rebellion created. For Gaya, this time, it's  personal.
1. Prologue: 17 Years Ago

On the evening of the third day, she smiled at him as she brought him tea- the same cheap, synthetic stuff as she had made for them that morning, but a fresh pot, he could taste it. He wished, later, that she hadn't smiled; that she didn't smile at him so often, or so prettily, or with such genuine compassion. When had anyone last smiled at him and _meant_ it?

Of course, in the course of those three days and nights he had come to wish many things, a useless indulgence he would not have allowed himself in what he already thought of as his "other life." But here, he was lying in a lumpy, old bed in the backroom of a hole-in-the-wall flat, waiting for his unexpectedly brittle body to heal, and he had nothing to do but think- and sometimes read- but mainly think. Which brought on the ineffectual wishing.

He wished that someone else had found him. He wished that instead of her, it had been some complete degenerate- much like the one that had knifed him without, of course, realizing who he was- who had taken him out of the alley where he had lay, humiliated and, of course, also bleeding. If only it had been some media caricature of a twilighter, some disgusting old whore wallowing in her own filth. Better yet, he wished that the mugger- _he _had nearly been done in by a _mugger!_- had slashed some other part of his body than his throat, which he had done so ineptly that he had completely missed the jugular, scarring the vocal cords instead. Then he would be able to speak understandably and would tell whoever found him who he was. And perhaps they wouldn't believe him, but at least then the normal dynamic could be restored between them. Then, even if it still had been this girl, this Niama, who found him, he could have revealed himself to her. Then, she could have been like all the rest of them- awed, cowed, obsequious perhaps (although he hoped not, for that would be a true disappointment), and secretly revolted.

Then, she might not smile so much.

He also wished she didn't have those damn _books._ Most of them were the modern nano-discs, of course, not like the physical books, the codex-style tomes his master had collected. All but two, in fact. One of the two was a well-read thing on cheap flimsiplast, a romance penny dreadful, some blather about an alien princess trapped in a space station by pirates. It was mostly melodrama and sex, but when he read it- he was so bored he read them all- he detected a certain sadness in the tale. The events, though absurd, were communicated with an emotional depth that could cut as deeply as the knife had. He understood why she loved the book, especially after he learned about the death sticks and the pimp. She was the princess; she couldn't go home, and she was waiting in this slum to be rescued. But this was no novel- they both knew the rescue wouldn't come.

But even understanding that, it might have yet been all right if only she hadn't had the other codex-book. She handed it to him one night before she went to work. "I've read it a million times," she'd said graciously. "You seem…intellectual. You probably need something to read that doesn't kill your brain cells with all that romance sucrose." She seemed to perceive his unspoken question. "I don't know if I understand it. I didn't get far enough in school to read it for class, and I've heard it's a really deep book. But my mother always used to say it was the greatest poetry ever written, and the most romantic book ever." He had read the cover, and felt genuine surprise. It was Kamus' Ten Thousand Years of Darkness. _Your mother was right,_ he imagined saying- damn those vocal cords!

But when he stopped wishing and fantasizing- his fantasies in that bed were the stuff of awful novels like the one about the princess; he nearly made himself sick- he realized it could not have been otherwise; as soon as he met her, it was too late. It wasn't just the books. It had started when first he had opened his eyes and seen her peering down at him. The slender form, the majestic neck, and the sweet young face, tired and prematurely worn from drug use, too little sleep, and sorrow. The silky, light brown hair, golden in places from natural highlights that caught the crude fluorescent light and glittered faintly. The hazel eyes, so vivacious but so afraid, not yet dead-looking, as so many of her colleagues' eyes were. And the smooth, fair, pliant skin. In the dimmed lamplight, she had seemed to glow, surrounded by a sort of corona. He had always been gifted with sensory sensitivity, and in his time he had found that most beings stank, that they exuded an unwashed, waste-like odor. She did not, not even beneath the cheap, pungently alcoholic perfume she wore.

He was glad when he learned what her profession was, because it meant that he could hire her some evening, when he was healed and back and this part of his life was over. He wondered if she would remember him, and fancied she might. He imagined giving her another dress to wear, instead of that awful, neon spandex thing she wore out at night, and what she would look like if she washed off the cheap makeup, as well as the perfume. He imagined giving her a good meal, and maybe even allowing Ten Thousand Years of Darkness to be performed again at the Opera House, just so she could see it.

Thus ran his fantasies until that night, when he sat up to take the tea, and his eye was caught by the horrifying image across from him. It stared at him with red eyes sunken deep in sockets of yellow skin. All its skin was sallow white-yellow, like pus or melted candle wax. It hung on the thing's skull in furrowed, wrinkly layers. It had no hair- not anymore- and its teeth were stumpy and gray in its sneering, pale-lipped mouth.

He jumped and for a moment, his only thought was, _Dear Force, what __is__ that __thing__?_

It was then that he realized the image was surrounded by a rectangular frame, and he understood that he was staring, with revolted fascination, into a mirror.

He knew then that he was not going to hire her. What was the point? He would know how she felt, would know that she felt nothing but the same revulsion he was feeling, no matter what she would say on such an evening. Even her smiles would be hollow, as hollow as the fawning looks the rest of them gave. And somehow, that thought also cut him. Besides, what a poor reward it would be for all she had done.

But he did want her. He had in a sense been two people for most of his adult life, and they were quite different, so much so that if they were two separate men, they would probably despise each other. But they were both accustomed to getting what they wanted. It was only a question of how.

Sometimes, as he healed and grew more lucid, he heard her crying. Sometimes, it was after she had been using- he could smell the fumes in the air. The other time, it was after the male had come to the flat, had damn near broken down the door. That day, he had heard the sounds of things crashing, breaking- and she had screamed, and then cried for a while. And he understood in his intellectual way that it was more than the pimp, more than the drugs- it was everything. The disappointment in herself, and the loneliness. He knew she could never have been a great scholar, captain of industry, or galactic leader- as surely she did, too- but she could be more than this, and she hated that she wasn't.

And she needed someone to love, who would also love her. Many beings needed that; until he had met her, he hadn't really understood why. In many ways he still didn't, although he no longer looked down so much on those who had the need. But that was what the drugs were for, that was what the awful novels and the Kamus epic were for. The inescapable loneliness.

That realization made him happy, truly happy, when he had it. Because now he knew what he would do for her. Now he knew what he could give her that would also give him what he wanted. He would give her a chance- a chance to get clean, and a chance to have someone to love. And, of course, when he was able to, he would give her the necessary monetary support.

That night he slept well, less fitfully than he had in a very long time. He had a plan. He always felt better when he had a plan.


	2. One Year Ago

Niama Viviani looked up rather guiltily as the apartment door's locks unbolted and the door slid open with a metallic screech. She had been working on another one of the novels she sometimes ghostwrote for various deceased celebrity writers whose publishers wanted to continue their franchises. It paid good money that was always useful to have for unexpected expenses or small day-trips to other sectors of Coruscant. Her daughter, Gaya, liked to help edit the manuscripts, even though she claimed they were "chick lit," and Gaya's stepfather, Niama's husband Ardan Teta, was completely supportive. But the writing was so much fun- creating eccentric new characters and inventing the absurd and wildly melodramatic storylines, in particular- that Niama always felt that she was wasting time when she did it, especially when she knew that she should have been polishing glasses down in the bar or counting up last night's profits.

Looking up now from the datapad, she saw Gaya shuffle through the door, followed by Ardan. "Gaya?" Niama's eyebrows rose. "What are you doing home from school?"

Fifteen-year-old Gaya stood before her mother in silence for a few seconds, as if waiting for a bolt from above to strike her down. After a moment, she didn't seem to be able to stand the anticipation any longer, and ran to the refresher, where, a few seconds later, Niama heard through the open door the sounds of her daughter being physically sick.

She looked up at Ardan. "What's wrong with Gaya? Is she sick?" Well, obviously she was. But something was different. Gaya had gotten sick and had to come home from school early before, like every child, and she had never before looked so terrified…of _Niama._ And Ardan, always a fair-skinned man, was now white as a new sheet, with a strange electricity to his movement that was almost tangible, and that made Niama, for reasons she didn't understand, a little afraid of him.

Gaya didn't just have a bug. Something was very wrong.

He paced for a minute, his pale hands clenching and unclenching themselves. At last, he sat down beside her at the kitchen table. "Gaya is not going back to that…school."

"What the hell do you- Ardan, how can you say that, of course she has to-" His look silenced her at once. She waited, and, collecting himself, he began to explain.

He told her how when he'd come, Gaya was already in the infirmary. They had taken her to the principal's office originally, but she had been so panicked that she had tried to leave the school on the pretext of going to the refresher. She had struggled so much that it had been decided- the principal had been very careful not to lay blame on any one individual, in case Ardan sued, or tried to kill, the person who had made the decision to restrain his stepdaughter by force.

"I came in and there she was," he recalled in a distant voice as cold as space. "They had strapped her to one of the cots. The nurse told me they used the restraints they use on the cognitively challenged students. The students with special needs." Niama reflected that she hadn't known that the school was allowed to restrain any of its students.

"I don't care what she did to those two idiots who were harassing her in phys ed," he growled, hands gripping each other until his knuckles were white. "I don't give a damn about their ridiculous school policies or whether she was 'disrupting' anything. She was terrified that they were going to expel her, and terrified of what you'd do when you found out what she did. And instead of comforting her, they treated her like a criminal."

"They restrained her…" It wasn't the most intelligent reply, but Niama couldn't get the image out of her mind. She felt pity for her daughter, and she very much shared Ardan's feelings toward the school administration. She felt as though she had been cheated, and Gaya too, moreso than her. When Gaya was enrolled in public school in first grade, they had made it clear that even though Gaya had the diagnosis of Krandyn's Disorder (a sensory and developmental disorder even more unknown then than it was now) she was cognitively normal- possibly even more intelligent than her peers; Ardan had always thought so. Still, she had some needs, and they were trusting the school to meet them. And they had told Gaya that as long as she worked hard to get an education, and to learn the social skills that were so difficult for those with Krandyn's, everything would be all right. Now, Niama felt that the school had failed to protect Gaya, failed even to understand her, and on a deeper level, that it had ruined learning for Gaya, maybe permanently. After all, this was only the most extreme incident to happen since Gaya entered secondary school; it was far from the first. How much could one girl be expected to take?

"They restrained her," Ardan confirmed. "The girl is taking two honors courses and she maintains a 3.5 average. She's never even had a detention before. And they restrained her. As if she was some kind of violent _moron_. One of the _retards_."

"Ardan, don't talk like that, you know she hates it when people use those terms, and so do I-"

"_Bloody damn, Niama, do you think they'd have felt they could tie her up if she didn't have the Krandyn's? It's not the usual method of punishment, is it?"_

Niama recoiled. Ardan rarely got angry- he was frequently frustrated and disdainful, even contemptuous, toward people who made his, Niama's, and Gaya's lives more complicated than they had to be. And he was even less frequently angry at one of them. Even now, she saw some color returning to his face as he regained control of his temper.

"I'm sorry, Nia," he murmured. "Forgive me. I'm not angry with you."

"I know, honey. I'm angry at them, too." She tried to think of any way Gaya wouldn't have to go back to that school. She had had Gaya tested for midi-chlorians a week ago, and the test had not yielded enough to qualify Gaya for admittance to the New Jedi Order. But considering what Ardan had said about what Gaya had done (namely, shot electricity from her fingertips at the two boys who had cornered her in phys ed, while the instructor was conveniently distracted), Niama thought the test might have been wrong…or else Gaya had some strange abilities unconnected to the Force, which seemed unlikely.

Ardan was gazing in the direction of the refresher, where Gaya still knelt just out of view, catching her breath. Niama could still see his rage, now cooled, but present, subtle as a poisoned cup and durable as stone. She realized his lips were moving, and she strained to hear the words he was repeating to himself, like a mantra, or a spell.

"They are going to pay for this," he was muttering. "They are all going to _pay_."


	3. Epithets

Darth Bane the Second gripped the hoverbus handhold and thought giddily, _I love the smell of new military intel in the morning._

Bane had had many names in her cosmically brief life of thirty-five standard years. First, to her tribe of Tusken back on her homeworld of Tatooine, she had been Mearegeode Tharssen, or, "Meargeode, descendant of the Thar." Then, when her biological father, a wrinkly old offworlder named Palpatine, sent his men to find her and bring her back to his court, her name had become the more "civilized" (which mainly meant "easier to pronounce") and Basic-sounding "Mara-Jade." She had chosen her Sith name, the name she primarily went by now, a few years later, her master Lord Vader being somewhat liberal in his attitude toward his apprentice, and besides this still being an apprentice Sith himself and not quite sure how to mentor anyone else in what he himself was not yet an expert in.

Bane vaguely enjoyed collecting names the way some people collected vintage Jedi Clone War Hero action figures, ancient Sith tomes, or the bloody lightsaber hilts of their beaten foes. But there was one name she hoped not to collect- really, she supposed it was more like a title, or some kind of epithet perhaps- which was why she and the Jedi Master and New Republic Commander Luke Skywalker were taking public transportation to and from their early-morning meeting with Chancellor Organa, instead of Skywalker's speeder. (Bane reflected that she wished they took the speeder more places. She had driven it twice, and it handled well and went faster than any other transport smaller than a fighter that she'd ever flown. She and Skywalker agreed that they would have to take it offplanet sometime, to an area with a lot of wide-open space, where they could really floor it.)

The epithet she wanted to avoid- the one they both wanted her to avoid, just for now- was, "Darth Bane: that crazy ginger who Commander Skywalker is having a secret love affair with." Although the media would find a more succinct way to put it. They'd call her the "Sith Slut" or "Tusken Tart," something tasteful like that. If she was lucky, of course. If not, they'd be sure to add a few cracks about her weight, parentage, and of course the fact that she was affiliated with the order responsible for galactic despotism and mass Jedi slaughter.

But right now, she felt too pumped to worry about any of that. "You should stay for breakfast at the Temple," she told Skywalker with uncharacteristic cheerfulness, the bumpiness of the hoverbus ride only serving to feed her adrenaline high. "We can start planning how we're going to do this. I can't kriffing _wait_ to get out home and bust this guy's ass. And I want to incorporate some of my tribe's newest warrior generation in this. They never get to raid anything anymore; it's a travesty."

He was looking at her, but his eyes were unfocused and she sensed he was lost in some reverie. When he noticed she'd stopped talking, he snapped out of it. "Sorry, Bane. I missed that. I guess I'm tired."

Bane tactfully refrained from making a crack about how it had probably been their antics last night in her quarters at the New Sith Temple that had worn him out. Instead she sat down beside him on one of the many vacant seats. "I was saying how you should come back to the Temple for breakfast."

Punchy with fatigue, he cracked up at that. "You guys eat Jedi for breakfast now? What, did you discover some ancient recipe in some holocron somewhere for Jedi omelets?" When Skywalker- all right, _Luke_- when _Luke_ was tired, his jokes tended to be of the corny pun variety. Actually, he was a little corny all the time. _Well,_ Bane thought smugly, _not quite __all__ the time._

"Or did you just ask Bane the First what recipe she uses?" A more literal-minded person, such as Gaya Viviani, one of the second-year apprentices at the New Sith Temple, might here point out that Darth Bane the First, also known as "Bane the Conqueror," "Bane, the Master of the Dark Side," and a whole slew of other impressive-sounding epithets, didn't have recipes for anyone, including Jedi. The undead Sith master, who had discovered a means of preserving both her consciousness and her corporeal existence through the occasional consumption of blood and/or other parts of the body, too, generally hadn't bothered with niceties like cooking her victims, back when she'd had them. It was also not clear whether she was in fact literate, thus rendering written recipes useless.

"Ha ha," said Bane the Second with gentle sarcasm, leaning back horizontally on the seat and lightly pulling Luke so that his head rested comfortably on her chest. "For your information, Mr. Grammar Expert, as of last night I have had all the delicious Jedi I will need for another- oh- couple of hours, bare minimum."

"Shh. There could be reporter droids," he said, but he was happy. He looked up at her, fixing her with the blue eyes that she liked to imagine Lord Vader had had, under his helmet. "Mara-"

"Bane."

"Bane." He took a deep breath. "You know how we've been…involved for…quite a few months now-"

"Listen. I think I know what you're going to say." She shifted slightly, and grinned. "Look, I know how hard it is for you, even with all your wonderful Jedi restraint, to watch me living in a Temple that's almost exclusively guys. And since I'm in charge there, I know it's crossed your mind that maybe sometimes I… take advantage of my position. But I can't move out. I can't be the Master of the New Sith and not live at the New Sith Temple. Besides, even if I was remotely attracted to any of those jerks, which I'm not, I still wouldn't do anything about it behind your back. I mean, I've been with all of, like, three guys in my whole life, and I think that's including you. You're the one who spent all that time 'helping Leia out with diplomacy' in all those systems, and we all know how many very nice young ladies you met. I mean, just considering the fact that your Order was originally celibate, and everything."

He laughed. "That's not what I was going to say."

"Then what were you going to say?"

He gazed at her a little more, this time as if he had a question that he wasn't sure how to phrase. Finally, he seemed to give up, and asked, "So…can your tribe help us find this place…um… 'Eidolon Base'?"


	4. Now

Gaya Viviani closed her eyes. She did her best to ignore the tranquil meditation music playing on the somewhat tinny speakers in the room that was the New Sith Temple's gym. She tried hard not even to smell anything, and she erased her Force perception as cleanly as if it was as simple as shutting an invisible third eye. She tried not even to think any thoughts with subjects more complex than her breathing patterns. She ignored the paranoid voice in her head that fretted that she would lose her balance if she stopped paying attention to her footing, even for a second.

She tried to forget the passing of time, the memory of the pre-travel tasks she had completed and the anxiety over what still had to be done, and she especially tried to forget what she had mentally dubbed "the Ardan pain." These things were, temporarily, not real.

What was real was the cold linoleum floor beneath her bare feet, the drafty air saturated with traces of music that made it past her concentration, and most of all, the healthy ache of her rapidly learning muscles. She allowed herself only a vague awareness of the ease with which her body slid from movement to movement, position to position, across the floor, as she practiced almost effortlessly the teras kasi kata whose name she didn't even remember. That was okay. Names weren't always as important as neurotypicals- people without Krandyn's Disorder, people who were normal- tended to think. Not when you had the Force.

Bane the First had told her that; Gaya thought she was probably right. She knew the thing, and the essence of the thing. Names, to some extent all language, were just symbolic, a way of expressing the essence of a thing not present without describing it in detail. You didn't need them as much if you could just transmit the knowledge of the thing directly to the person you were communicating with. That was fine by Gaya. Bane the First communicated almost exclusively by telepathy, and she had ruled the Sith for years with an iron fist; even as a spirit, she had exerted plenty of influence over modern Sith; even, it was suspected, Emperor Palpatine. Gaya hoped to learn telepathy at some point. Due to either her Krandyn's or her quiet nature, whipped further into submission by its undermining through well-intentioned social therapy and bad-intentioned bullying and exclusion, she often spoke haltingly, inarticulately, in a too-quiet tone, and she often had to search for words mid-statement, since the anxiety of social interaction often caused her to forget what she had meant to say. Telepathy was going to change her life.

The music went dead and Gaya completed the step and opened her eyes. In the doorway stood the figure of Darth Apathian, the phys-ed instructor and general teacher of all things physical at the Temple. He was, as usual, glaring at her. "You should be getting your crap together for the trip."

"I did already, Master."

"And it's loaded onto the ship?"

"No, but-"

"Then get it on there. Sorry, but we don't have housekeeping droids to do it for you."

Gaya frowned. Most people would, and did, assume that Apathian was just being surly, as he was with everyone. But she knew that this was the hassling he reserved just for her; he never talked to Jaina or any of the others this way. And he did this all the time with her. She was pretty certain at this point that he was messing with her. She wished she knew why. "I know there aren't any housekeeping droids to do our chores for us, Master. I never expected there to be."

"Then go get your kriffing stuff."

The swearword seemed excessive. "I'm sorry, Master, it's just that they said our bags didn't have to be down there until-"

"Well, I'm locking things up in here now, so you'll have to get out anyway," he snapped.

Gaya sat down next to her boots and began to put them back on. Deciding that it had been a year, and she was tired of this, she said, in the least confrontational way she knew how, "You know, Master, the reason I come here is to get extra practice on the physical parts of the training. So I can do better in class." An extreme lack of physical coordination was a common side effect of Krandyn's Disorder. Using the Force to correct for this deficiency brought Gaya's abilities up to about those of a typical, non-Force-sensitive being; to keep up in class and to build her strength, she found it was necessary to put in extra time in the Temple's gym room, lifting weights or practicing sparring, either in teras kasi form or with a training saber.

"And?" was his impatient reply.

"Well, no offense, Master, but I know you never liked me. I mean, not that you have to _like_ me exactly…it's just you seem to actually dislike me. And it always seemed to me like it was because you thought I wasn't trying hard enough in class. So I guess I want you to know that I am now."

His red eyes fixed her with a look of supreme disdain that she would have had to have had severe, low-functioning KD (at least) not to pick up and comprehend. "So? Do you expect me to give you a medal for doing exactly what you should be- doing everything you can to learn these skills?"

And he wasn't wrong, Gaya mused an hour or so later, as she brought her things down to the waiting ship that would take their team, plus the team from the New Jedi, to Tatooine. She was unused to people expecting much from her- at her old school, before the Order, she had been labeled a "special needs student," despite the advanced level of the courses she took, and because of her family's financial situation, which was stable but never great, she had known that her formal education would end after secondary school graduation. But this was the New Sith Order, and it needed apprentices who could do things. Gaya tended to be good at anything involving other languages, such as translation, and lately she had realized an unexpected talent for psychological profiling. And of course her spatial reasoning was always above average, except when it related to her own body (she was and always would be anything but graceful). But she needed to have physical skills, too. And why should she expect the masters to hold her hand and reward her for every little thing she did right? She was sixteen years old now, after all.

As the others had begun to board, Gaya selected a seat toward the back, near a viewport. Looking out, she realized someone had sat down next to her and hoped it wasn't Chad Divinian, that creep. She grinned when she saw who it was. "Hi."

"Hey," said her friend, probably her best friend, Jaina Solo. "How was your workout?"

"I didn't, um, really get to practice the whole kata. Master Apathian kicked me out."

"What? He knows you're allowed to be in there."

"Yeah, but he said he was locking up." Gaya sighed. "I wish…I wish Master Bane wasn't making him come with us."

"Yeah. Do you see the looks he gives me and Linxo? The guy's seriously anti-gay. I don't know how he managed to work with Witicca all these years." Gaya nodded, refraining from remarking that she, too, found Jaina and Linxo's behavior mildly annoying- not because she had a problem with gayness or with homosexuality, but because it was awkward to be walking down the hall and come upon two of your friends passionately sucking face.

"He hasn't said anything about it, though? Like, to your mom?"

"No. But I think he would if Aunt Bane let him."

"You could, you know, tell her first. Then he wouldn't be able to bust you."

"Ha. There's no way my mother is going to know about this. Not 'til I'm old enough to move out of their house. I mean, first of all, it's bad for her political career because about half her constituents think interspecies pairing is sick. And then second of all, they're going to treat it like some phase I'm going through- the way they used to act about my being a New Sith. That's basically what they say about things that I like and they don't. They treat it like I only like it because I'm being a 'rebellious teen.' Even my Dad-" She broke off suddenly and looked apologetic. "Sorry."

"What- oh. Yeah." Gaya gave a mental groan. She hadn't thought about her stepfather (ex-stepfather?) Ardan Teta for almost the whole day…until now. "That's okay."

"Do…um…do the police have any new leads?" asked Jaina innocently, as if she didn't know- or at least didn't suspect- the answer.

"No," said Gaya heavily. She sighed. "He…covered his tracks really well, it looks like."

"Oh Gaya, look, I bet they're not sure it wasn't-"

"Yeah. They're pretty sure. I mean, that's what they told us. That it probably wasn't kidnapping. That he, um…that it was probably voluntary."

They were silent for a minute or two, and then Jaina said, "Well, he's a kriff."

"He's still my father. Basically. The closest thing I've got, I mean."

"Sorry. You're right. Look…tell your mom when we get back, my mom wants to invite her over again sometime. She's sorry for the whole 'shopping trip' thing-"

"That's okay, she didn't know." Chancellor Organa had invited Gaya's mother Niama on a shopping trip with her and Master Bane. The expensive stores they had gone to had only served to intimidate Niama and to make her feel even more off-kilter, though she had accepted the women's gesture with grace. "She says Master Bane comes into the Kimorra a lot and has a drink with her between rush hours. She likes that."

"Well, that's good." Jaina grinned. "Hey, have you brought Cody home to meet her yet?"

"Um…we had him over for Life Day," Gaya admitted. Her brow puckered. "Why?"

"'Cause he likes you."

Gaya shook her head ruefully. "That's not why I invited him. I wasn't trying to…it wasn't a romantic thing. It's just that Mom and I felt bad for him because, you know, that's a time for family, and his unit is, you know, off somewhere fighting for the Empire right now, and he can't even contact them…we thought he might be lonely." She paused and then added, "He doesn't like me. Not like that. We're just friends." She tried not to sound sad about it. She wasn't; not that much, anyway.

"Ardan liked him," she said at last, because she needed to talk about Ardan to someone. It wasn't that her mother had ever said they couldn't talk about him; Gaya knew she would try, so that Gaya could process her feelings about the disappearance; Niama had done the best she could to hold it together for her daughter. But when Gaya had last seen her mother, the woman had looked as if she'd cried herself to sleep for the past month. She wasn't going to put her mother through a discussion of her own emotions, when her mother's were still so raw.

"I think it was because he knew how…hurt I've been that I…never dated anyone," she elaborated. "I mean, all through secondary school everyone had at least one person interested in them. And it was only these short, two-week things, it wasn't long or deep…but nobody ever asked me out. Not once. I used to get really sad about it. Ardan knew that. I mean, I know fathers are supposed to resent their daughters' boyfriends because they think they're not good enough, but I think he was so happy that I might finally be going out with someone that it canceled that out."

Jaina nodded, and then, after a few moments' careful deliberation, said, "So…on a lighter note, you want to hear what happened the first time I ever dated?"

Gaya perked up a little. "You brought a date home to your parents? I thought-"

"No, my first time it was a human. Her name was Tareja. Tareja Starrunner. We were going to the eighth grade Life Day formal together. And my parents made us sit in the den for, like, an hour before we could go and my Mom was asking all these questions about her grades and her family, and my Dad was just looking really bewildered, because he feels weird about things like homosexuality. Because, you know, back when he used to be a smuggler sometimes he used to go to these spaceports with cantinas where there would be these raunchy shows with two women and-" Jaina interrupted herself to yell to the front of the takeoff bay. "Hey, Uncle Luke!"

"Hey, Jaina," Commander Skywalker beamed down at his niece. "Hey, Gaya," he added generously.

"Um, hi," Gaya greeted him with her usual aura of impenetrable self-confidence.

Skywalker smiled kindly. "Master Bane tells me you're putting in extra time at the fitness center over at you guys' Temple. Great job. You look like you lost some weight."

Distantly, Gaya thought she could hear Chad snicker. Even as her face burned with embarrassment, though, she found herself brushing it off. She was used to some level of embarrassment, because of the misunderstandings her Krandyn's caused. Besides, Jaina and Master Bane were both glaring at Skywalker. Bane, a tall and generously built woman herself, was giving Skywalker a look that could best be interpreted as, "If we were married, you'd be sleeping on the couch tonight for that."

Looking as close to Skywalker's eyes as she could (the Krandyn's made direct eye contact difficult) Gaya replied carefully, "I don't know. I haven't checked. But I can lift way heavier weights now, and my reaction time in sparring has gotten better."

Gaya had been overweight when she came to the Temple, and she might still be, although her clothes had gotten looser. But Master Bane, who had been big her whole life, according to her, had told Gaya at the start: the best kind of inner power, contrary to the diet plans they advertised on the HoloNet, could be found in liking the way you looked, and trying to treat your body well. If Gaya lost weight by putting in the extra time, that was fine, but if not, that was fine, too. The important part was not getting thin, but getting strong. They were Sith, and Sith didn't care how their bodies looked, because Sith didn't have to please anyone. Sith only cared about what their bodies could _do_.

She felt bad for Skywalker then- the man seemed chastened and honestly sorry to have offended her. After a moment of helpless floundering, he raised his voice and addressed the teams. "Hey…so we're getting ready to-" He was interrupted by Masters Bane and Witicca shushing both teams of apprentices, who were still talking loudly. Skywalker obligingly waited until everyone had quieted down before continuing.

"So we're getting ready to take off for Mos Eisley spaceport on Tatooine," he announced. "The trip should take a little less than forty-eight hours, unless we have to avoid Imperials or stop for an emergency refuel. So I'd advise everyone to settle in for the long haul once we've jumped to lightspeed. Now, before you all plug into whatever entertainment gadgets you brought, I have some things to say about the place we're headed.

"A lot of our…_friends_ from the New Sith might think they're old hats at this interplanetary travel thing because they went with Master Bane to Anzat last year. Well, I know Anzat has a spaceport and can be a little seedy at times- although you all were mostly out in the wilds of it- but believe me when I say: Tatooine is a whole new scramball game. So I want you all to observe the rules even more strictly. Don't separate from your group, and don't go anywhere alone. Keep all your credits and anything valuable you brought along somewhere close to your body. Don't buy anything unless a master says it's okay. Don't accept anything from strangers, don't pick fights, and don't think you're allowed to drink just because there's no legal drinking age there. All of you are citizens of Coruscant, where there _is_ a legal limit, and you're all under it except Ken and-" he paused briefly, testing the unfamiliar name on his tongue- "Ranjana Tharssen. Oh, damn. Darth Scathach, I mean. Sorry, Lady Scathach," he added to Ranjana, who was slouched impatiently in the seat next to Ken, who kept sneaking sidelong glances at her, as if the young Jedi Knight couldn't believe his amazing luck. "I only got the memo a few days ago. Congratulations, though." He and the masters clapped politely, and the New Sith apprentices joined in out of sentiment for Ranjana, who accepted the lukewarm affirmation with a gracious nod. Aside from Ken, who clapped enthusiastically, none of the Jedi apprentices clapped much; they mostly looked a little perplexed at the significance of the name change.

"So anyway, don't do anything over there you wouldn't do over here," Skywalker finished somewhat lamely. "To our Sith apprentices, I'm Master Skywalker."

Gaya couldn't help herself. "As if everybody doesn't already know who he is," she whispered to Jaina, who snorted.

"And to my young Jedi," continued Skywalker, "This is Master Bane, Master Witicca, and Master Apathian. And I have word that Master- um- Bane the First…you see, this is Master Bane the Second," he tried to explain to the even-more-puzzled Jedi apprentices. "The other Master Bane, Bane the First…she'll meet us on-planet. She is, um, a very ancient and revered member of the Sith, so I will expect everyone to be on their best behavior for her. And I think that's everything."

He looked around with the desperate cheer of a schoolteacher trying to interest small children with tiny attention spans in some new project. "May the Force be with us."


	5. The Bright Planet

The thing Gaya always noticed about the other planets she visited was the air- the way it smelled, the way it tasted in the back of her throat, and the way it felt in her lungs and against her skin. On Coruscant, she barely noticed the thin, chilly, usually dry air, which almost always smelled at least slightly of fuel exhaust, rotting garbage, and overcrowding. When she had traveled to Anzat, she had been shocked at the briskly cool, thick, foggy, moist air, which only smelled a little of decaying foliage and was mostly saturated with the fragrance of rain. She had suspected Tatooine would be very different because she knew the climate was much drier. But when she had to think about their arrival, somehow she could not separate the concept of a new planet from the memory of that strange, lovely air filling up her lungs, as if it was cleansing her inside.

She stepped off the ship in Mos Eisley, and immediately fought the urge to dart back onboard. Even partly in the shade, as the hangar was, the dry heat was oppressive. But the heat was nothing compared to the light. She looked out beyond the hangar's wide doors, through which the ship had flown, and for a moment she could have sworn that there was nothing out there but pure, white, empty space. After a few seconds of staring, during which she fully believed she would go blind the way you were supposed to when you stared directly at a sun, she realized that the fiery void was actually bright sunlight, brighter than she had ever seen, beating down onto the sand and being reflected back off the white mud-bricks that the buildings around them seemed to be constructed from. Still, Gaya couldn't imagine walking out into that blaze.

As she walked through the streets, holding onto Jaina's pack at her friend's own invitation so that she could keep her eyes mostly closed and use Jaina's direction, and the Force, to guide her, Gaya felt as though raw chaos itself was assaulting her eardrums- and her nose, and her Force connection as well, she realized after a few minutes. Around her there were voices, speaking all manner of languages she could and couldn't guess at- in that way, it was similar to Coruscant, which actually improved her mood. There were animal sounds and what could have been the auditory emissions of droids. The dry air was filled with the smell of fuel, beings, and organic waste, probably from animals. This was also similar to Coruscant, except for the animals. And she could feel the throbbing of life around her in the Force- overwhelming at first, but then exhilarating. At last, she was curious enough to open her eyes. After the initial blinding flash, she gaped happily at the fascinating, squat buildings like honeycombs, the kiosks, the strange beings, and the insentient creatures- these were the most thrilling, since there was no livestock on Coruscant, only one small collection of creatures in the zoo at the capitol.

"Keep up, everybody!" yelled Master Bane over the melee. "We're almost there!"

"There" turned out to be a large but otherwise unremarkable cantina that Bane and Skywalker claimed was near the city limits. This was convenient, as tomorrow, they explained as the teams sat, waiting for dinner in one of the cantina's back "banquet rooms," they would ride a local shuttle up to Anchorhead, the last outpost of what most beings called "civilization."

"Beyond that, the Dune Sea begins," Bane explained. "Aside from moisture farms, and there aren't many of those left, there's nothing but desert and indigenous tribes. My people are waiting for us a day or so from Anchorhead, about halfway between there and Althingard, our sacred caves. They'll be sending a band of guides to lead us there. From their camp, we'll coordinate with them and proceed to Eidolon Base. They've recently discovered some new caves that might allow us to travel most of the way underground." She paused. "Speaking of underground caves, Master Bane the First will also be meeting us at Anchorhead. She believes she can be helpful in interrogating…whoever we find at the base."

"Who might we find?" asked Gaya.

Bane and Skywalker shared a look of great apparent significance, which Gaya couldn't interpret with certainty. Then, Skywalker said, "We're not sure, Gaya. It's an Imperial base, so it's possible we'll find officers who've been eluding New Republic capture. But we don't know who exactly it'll be. We just may need to interrogate them, for intel."

"Why didn't we find the base sooner?" asked Jaina. To Gaya, it sounded like one of those questions people asked not because they didn't know the answer, but because they wanted to hear what the person they were asking would say. "It's both your home planets, and before they emigrated to Coruscant, the New Sith actually managed to wrestle planetary control away from the Hutts. But nobody knew about this base 'til now."

Bane took a big swig of her drink. "I'm not going to answer your question, Jaina, because I've got a feeling you're about to do it for me." She looked up expectantly. "Well? Just speak your mind, young Solo. No one's going to be able to say I don't encourage independent critical thought in my Order."

Pursing her lips, Jaina pressed on. "Look, with respect, Master, you know that while Palpatine was in power, the local government of Tatooine was basically a puppet of the Imperials and the Hutts. That's the way it was on most planets. But since the Empire lost control of the Rim systems, the New Republic stepped in and imposed the Freedom of Commerce Act-"

"Tell us what that is, Jaina," interjected Witicca. "In case anyone doesn't know."

"The Empire regulated interplanetary commerce and corporate activity through a command market, where all companies were either nationalized or under Imperial supervision," explained Jaina. "The Freedom of Commerce Act basically states that the government isn't allowed to directly regulate economic activity anymore. Because of that Act, we now have almost totally unregulated free trade." She grimaced slightly. "It wasn't reported widely on the HoloNet. The Senate sort of tried to sneak it through." She snorted. "They basically succeeded. All they have to do is throw the word 'freedom' into stuff, and people's brains shut off."

"Anyway," prompted Bane.

"Yeah. So the thing is, while the Empire was in control, Tatooine had some protection from becoming companies' dumping ground and factory floors. But now that this Act is in place, there's no legal reason for big companies not to do things like dump their waste in the desert, or monopolize whole industries or local markets, or pay their factory workers almost nothing. Because it's Tatooine, so no one is paying attention. No one is going to stop them."

Jaina leaned in. "What I think is that those companies decided they didn't want any New Republic policymakers sniffing around down here. So they hid the existence of this base. For all we know, the base is providing them with troops to use as security against worker insurrection."

A brown-haired boy sitting with the New Jedi apprentices, who looked surprisingly similar to Jaina, sighed and rolled his eyes. Gaya recognized him as Jacen, Jaina's twin brother. At the other end of the table, Chad Divinian sneered.

"Please, Solo. Everybody knows that that Act is stimulating the galactic economy and providing jobs and all that stuff. The people who don't think so are all bleeding hearts who don't understand free market economics. My Dad says you have to give people incentives to work hard, otherwise they don't. He says he worked his ass off at my age and he earned everything he's got. Besides, your family's rich too. If you don't like the system, you should give away all your stuff and live on the street."

"You want to talk about earning what you have?" Jaina shot back. "Chad, you've never even had a job, unlike most of us, including me, for your information- yet you get to enjoy all your father's wealth, and you'll get even more as you get older."

"Jaina." Jacen's voice was as clipped and proper as Jaina's was loud and insistent. "Even Mama supported that bill when it came to her. It's all down to economics. You have to let the market regulate itself, and trust people to make their own choices and deal with the consequences. And I doubt that a corporation with an image to think of is going to risk angering the entire New Republic by committing treason, just so they can have some stormtroopers to break strikes with."

"Look, after the Act was passed, corporate stocks went up and factory construction increased by 50% in the Outer Rim alone," argued Jaina. "So why didn't we see the boom? Where's the wealth? People around here look as poor as ever. And why didn't we learn about the base sooner? Why hasn't there been a new, duly elected leadership?"

"Listen, everyone, we have to assume things will become clearer once we infiltrate," Skywalker interrupted, in an effort to quell the argument. "If any corporate entities know we're here, not that there's necessarily any reason for them not to know, it's not because the New Republic told them. We'll go in surreptitiously, and hopefully we can take the base before word gets out to any reinforcements that might be waiting. Everything will become clearer once we get in and gather some intel."

As their dinner arrived, Gaya, who had been deep in thought, said, "Can I say something?"

Bane smiled faintly. "About our earlier topic?"

"Yes, Master."

"Considering your economic background, I think that would be highly beneficial."

Gaya looked up, and tried to look only at Bane, not at any of the other listeners, especially Chad and Jacen. "My Mom ran away from home when she was about my age. She never told me why, but I always figured there was a good reason, because no matter how bad things got, she never went back. She couldn't find a job that paid her a living wage. She…she was a twilighter for a few years. For a while she had a drug problem. Until soon after I was born. That's when…when she got all this money in the mail. Sent anonymously. She used it to buy off her pimp, and the rest she used to get clean and to live off of while she found a better job. She owns her own business now. She worked hard for it.

"I understand that people have to have incentive to work hard, but motivation doesn't work if there's no way they can act on it. It's not just about pressuring people to succeed, it's about giving them the tools they need." She looked down. "I just wanted to say that."

Slowly, the New Sith apprentice named Cody looked up from his plate. As a clone, originally created to be an Imperial trooper, he rarely got involved in ideological discussions; in fact, he typically did not speak unless it was necessary. Now, he, too, began to talk. "Gaya is right. Besides, I remember how men used to talk about Rim system assignments. They always felt that as defenders of the Empire, it was their job to protect Imperial civilians from outlaws. When they could. They tried to do the same here. Now that they're not around, if these corporations are exerting control over citizens, there is no one to stop them."

"Now, hang on a minute there, that's not what the Imperials-" Skywalker began. Bane laid a restraining hand on his arm. The remainder of the meal was spent in silence.

* * *

><p>"Gaya!"<p>

Gaya awoke groggily from a dream she couldn't quite recall but which had put her in a mournful frame of mind, and peered through the darkness. Vetala Linxo, who had been assigned to share the room with her, was shaking her. "Gaya, you have to come."

"What? I don't…come where?"

"Downstairs. Jaina has already gone. Chad Divinian snuck out of his room. Cody told us. He is downstairs in the bar now. He is drunk. Jaina says we have to keep him under control. We have to go down."

Gaya pulled on a jacket and her boots, and peered at the chrono. It was a few hours before dawn, so late it was early. "Okay," she yawned, pocketing their com, the room key, and her traveler's wallet, which she strapped around her hips under her pajamas. She saw Linxo grab their lightsabers as they headed out the door. Well, you could never be too careful.

They made it to the cantina/inn's ground floor just in time to see Jaina on her way out the door. Around them, the bar was still open, but sparsely populated. Few beings looked up as Gaya and Linxo ran into the room.

"Hurry, guys! Follow me!" called Jaina. "Chad just slurred something about finding twilighters and ran out! Cody's trying to run him down now!" She ran out the door, too, and the two other girls took off after her, into the Tatooine night.

* * *

><p>"Damn," Gaya panted to Linxo as they followed Jaina into a sidestreet. "I thought drunk people were supposed to be <em>slow<em>." She shook her head as Linxo laughed nervously. "We should've left a note saying what was going on. The masters are going to kill us."

"I hope not," replied Linxo. "But…what if they cannot find us?"

"They'll look," assured Gaya, but she wasn't sure. After all, it was primarily a mission, not a field trip, and it probably couldn't be delayed for wayward apprentices. _Calm down. It's not even been an hour since Linxo came and got you. They're probably not even awake yet._ She glanced up at the street ahead. Jaina had stopped in her tracks. She was staring into the dark. "What is it?" Gaya asked her.

"I don't know," Jaina murmured. "I've lost Cody's trail. But it's worse…I'm getting a feeling…"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you have it too? Just a general, you know, really bad feeling about this?" Gaya thought about it, and found herself nodding.

Someone- or something- tapped both girls and they turned quickly, stifling yells. It was Linxo. Her almond eyes were vaguely luminous, translucent in the dark. They were wide with unease. "Quickly- be quiet- come this way- we have to go-"

A sound Gaya had never heard before, almost a kind of popping, registered briefly, before the world went from dark to completely black, and she and the two others fell forward, unconscious.


	6. The Advocate

Eirelan Starkeller, the best (and only) social worker at PS 180 in Coruscant's Orange District, looked around at the small apartment where she lived alone.

Just looking at it made her feel tired. When she had first moved in, almost ten years ago, its sparseness had appealed to her. Just out of university and ready to change the world nonviolently, through educating and healing the next generation- _ha, to think I actually thought_ _like that back then_- she had relished the idea of living like one of _them,_ the "real people," the plucky poor, the true citizens of Coruscant. She had gone from her secondary school in the Terraces, where the students all had the latest coms and media players and there was a Neighborhood Watch which worked in collusion with Republic domestic guards, and then later with Imperial troops. She had gone, she thought, in search of something real, a life of grittiness but of sincerity, and she had also been searching for purpose. The Clone War generation had all been like that. The shifting of the galaxy's political order had emboldened their revolutionary dreams, and the quagmire of the War itself, plus the seeming futility of the political game that surrounded it- had awakened their political conscience. They were going to reform the galaxy. Everything was going to be different, new, and beautiful.

Now, she looked around at the apartment and saw the peeling paint, the cracking linoleum, and the slimy black mildew creeping in around the tiles near the sink. The light that lit the front room, the kitchen and den, was half-burned out, bathing the room in a dim, eerie greenish glow.

She had tried to beautify the apartment when first she moved in. She had added some homey touches- bright psychedelic curtains over the drafty windows, laid-back, second-hand furniture, and racks of books on child psychology. The curtains were faded now, the furniture was scuffed, and the books sat, largely abandoned, in favor of some drugstore novel or HoloNet gossip printout.

There was ugliness all around her, she mused as she made herself a mug of bland, mud-and-mildew-looking tea, and drew her media player from her briefcase, selecting the current novel, and laid it on the table. The ugliness surrounded her completely.

She had looked into the world of the "real people." She had seen parents refuse to attend their children's progress meetings, or parents who came while they were "sick"- the word they used, as the stench of spice or the smoky almost-perfume of death sticks infested her nostrils. She had spoken with children who got hit at home, or who wished they did because it paled in comparison to what happened to them at school. She had looked into their eyes and seen pain, and she had seen anger, and at times, she had looked and seen _nothing_, which was worse.

She had seen the school nod and receive her memos and complaints and warnings, in the same gently indulgent tone every time. She hadn't understood at first, but now she thought she did. The ugliness came like a river- no, like a wave- and it was constant, and neverending, and if you staved it off once it would be back in no time. It was a primal failure, deeper than the Empire or the Republic. The ugliness rose silently like a flood and, in time, covered everything and choked off the air, shutting out all light.

She thought, as she sipped her tea, which was bitter, that at least the ugliness now tainted one less child, and that was Gaya Viviani. The girl's parents had pulled her out of school and apparently, she was now attending an educational program at the New Sith Temple. Theoretically, Starkeller was still the girl's caseworker, but she hadn't been to see Gaya- no appointment had been scheduled- since a month before the change in school. She was busy, and besides that, Gaya Viviani made her depressed. The image of Gaya in Starkeller's mind was of a _sad girl_, a kind of overgrown prepubescent, who looked at Starkeller as if she really expected her to make Gaya a success at PS 180. Who looked as if she expected life to be good to her, in spite of all evidence so far to the contrary. Her parents had been no better- they too expected Starkeller to be some kind of miracle worker. The girl had _Krandyn's Disorder_, and they put her in classes with _regular people_. And then acted surprised when she got teased, or overwhelmed. And then who did they blame? _Eirelan Starkeller, that's who._

She looked up as the curtains swung shut and the window shades crashed down over the panes. Her tea had spilled, and in the growing inky-brown pool that spread itself over the tabletop, she was able to see the reflection of a figure standing behind her.

"Stand up," he ordered. She could hear a faint humming behind her, and a red light emanated from the same spot. She stood, turning slowly.

"Mr. T-" she began.

"Be quiet," he snarled.

"But-" _where did he get a lightsaber?_

"_I told you to be quiet!"_ he hissed, and lunged forward. She felt a searing pain across her leg, so hot it was cold. She shrieked, and crumpled to the floor.

"What do you want?" She tried to articulate the words over the sobs heaving from her chest uncontrollably. "_What do you want?"_

In response, he sank the blade into her right shoulder, and she screamed again. "_Please-"_

"Don't you presume to beg me for _anything_, you useless old shrew," he snarled. "You damned incompetent hypocritical bitch-"

"Please- I'll do _anything_-"

For some reason, this caused him to become calmer, and he chuckled softly. "Of course you will." He brought the blade up. "The tragic irony, of course, Ms. Starkeller, is that when it _mattered_, you _didn't_. You didn't do _anything_. Nothing at all."


	7. Kidnapped

Gaya woke up in blackness. At first, the darkness was so complete that she could not see mere centimeters past the end of her nose. As she waited for her eyes to adjust, she tried to use the Force to probe the room, letting it make a kind of radar outline in her head. She sensed solid masses that were probably furniture of some kind, shelves perhaps; the heat of a running engine somewhere under the floor- which felt like metal sheeting- and, lying about two meters away…

"Jaina?" she called. Or tried to. For the first time, she became conscious of the rag tied around her mouth. With a combination of the Force and spasmodic head jerking, she managed to loosen it. "Jaina?" she hissed.

"Mm," replied the being. There was wriggling, and then Jaina whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I think so. And you?"

"I'm fine."

"What happened, do you think?"

"I think they used a blaster set to 'stun.' My Mom got hit with one of those once. She says it's like being drugged, but cleaner and instantaneous."

Gaya recalled something from one of the Temple classes. "Imperial blasters have a 'stun' setting, right? Aren't they the only blasters that still do?" Most weapons now had rays which caused paralysis, but did not stun the victim so as not to risk damaging brain function, which stunning in rare instances had been known to do.

"Yeah. Man, we could really use Cody right now."

"Who else is in here?"

"Just the three of us. Linxo's next to me. It looks like they put some kind of muzzle-thing on her. They probably believed all those awful 'Anzati are vampires' myths. We can't get it off with the Force because it's got a buckle clasp."

"Right. We were going to learn those the week we came back, Master Witicca said."

_Wait a moment,_ said a voice in Gaya's mind. With a start, she realized it was Linxo's. _I am going to see if I can perceive the minds of our captors_. _I want to find out who they are and where they are taking us. Meanwhile, you two_ _should get untied and arm yourselves._

After some more Force-manipulation and squirming, both girls were untied- the ropes were of thick but primitive cords of bantha leather woven together- and were doing their best with Linxo's knots. With an abrupt feeling of suction in the Force, these suddenly unraveled in the girls' hands. "Did you do that?" whispered Jaina.

Removing the muzzle, Linxo smiled bashfully, her white cheeks blushing pale pink, as she nodded. _It was not so difficult…anyway, I have learned a few things. Our kidnappers are bounty hunters who have been supplied with Imperial resources. They wish us and our masters to believe they are slave traders, but in reality, they are delivering us to Eidolon base, and from there, off the planet. To a place called Byss._

"Byss?" Jaina raised an eyebrow. "That's where the Emperor's palace used to be. Well, it still is. Maybe we've been captured by the Imperial provisional government."

"Who runs that?" asked Gaya.

"Sate Pestage."

"Palpatine's old prime minister."

"That's right," Jaina confirmed in a way that struck Gaya as strangely narratively convenient- as narratively convenient as their whole exchange had been, she realized, but then put it out of her mind. They had too much to worry about without her weird thoughts.

"What does he want with us?" she asked instead.

"Ransom, probably," said Jaina. "Or demands. Look, we can probably escape as soon as we've found our-"

The room they were trapped in was flooded with light.

It took Gaya a minute to process the fact that the door had slid open, but all at once the knowledge hit her, and she reacted, running in the direction of the door as fast as she could, skidding on the metal, certain that at any moment she would be shot.

But her feet carried her out into the hall, where she perceived Jaina and Linxo standing with her, catching their breath. Unable to fully believe that something so simple as running past their captors- who had just realized what their prisoners, with the speed of Force-users, had actually done- had worked, the girls ran in the direction where they thought weapons might be, Jaina activating the door's locking mechanism and shutting their captors in the hold as she ran.

Their instincts proved correct as they came to a small room, with a counter on which several blasters lay, newly filled with fresh laser cartridges, waiting to be picked up by the accomplices they had been issued to. "Do you and Gaya know how to use these?" Linxo asked Jaina nervously. Now that there was no more need to be quiet- their escape would shortly be known- she had reverted to physical, sound-based speech. "We have barely learned how to handle lightsabers."

"I've used one in sim games," said Jaina.

"Cody let me try out his a couple times, after he refilled it and cleaned off the rust," Gaya informed them. "They're not too hard. You hold them like this-" she hefted one onto her hip- "then you lift them like _this_-" she lifted it to ribcage level with both hands- "and then you point and pull the trigger. But they have kind of a kick, so you have to be standing pretty steady. And you have to keep both hands on them when you shoot, because of that."

Jaina lifted hers. "They're kind of heavy."

"Yeah, they're built for power, and to be used by grown men in top physical condition," agreed Gaya. "Now, I'm not sure, but…" She thought. "In everything I've ever read, they say to either find escape pods or a hangar or else get to the bridge."

"This is a land transport," informed Jaina. "They won't have a hangar or pods."

"Then we should get to the cockpit or the bridge or whatever," Gaya decided, pushing down the fear that kept trying to flood her system. "Before they spot us. Is there a computer with a map or anything?"

"I will find out," Linxo assured her, lapsing into a spaced-out silence. After about thirty seconds, she emerged. "That way, up a ladder. I will show you."

"Quick," ordered Jaina. "Before they get us."

* * *

><p>The ladder was most difficult, especially while shouldering the heavy blasters. Gaya missed her own lightsaber, which for now could only be put on a low-frequency, training setting. At the same time, there was something refreshing about the simplicity of blasters. You didn't need much grace, agility, or training to use them. You just held, aimed, and fired. Her brain processed the one-step procedure better, and her muscles performed it faster. But they were big, at least this model. It took all the girls' Force ability to climb while keeping the blasters from falling on the head of the climber below them.<p>

Jaina pulled herself up first, with Gaya in the middle and Linxo below her in case she felt she was going to fall. "Okay, hands up in the name of the New Repub- oh, bugger…"

"They heard us coming, right?" mumbled Gaya, pulling herself up out of the ladder-shaft and finding about six blasters leveled at her and Jaina.

"Yep."

"Dammit. I was kind of afraid of that."

"I should have perceived it," Linxo moaned from inside the shaft. "But I was focused on climbing and scanning below us for any guards…I am so sorry…"

"Okay, man, we're putting the blasters down, already," groaned Jaina. Gaya put her own weapon on the floor with some hesitation. She had enjoyed its weight in her arms and on her hip, and had been looking forward to trying it out.

She observed their captors. The majority of the crew, manning the transport and covering her, Jaina, and now Linxo, were Imperial stormtroopers, which put Gaya vaguely at ease, since it reminded her of Cody- although, since his accelerated growth gene was deficient, he was closer to her age than to theirs.

The others, two of them, were the bounty hunters. One had his blaster leveled at them and looked as if he might fire due to an extreme nervous tic. The other sat in one of the console chairs, keeping an eye on them, his hand within reach of his blaster, yet not overly concerned. This one, a humanoid, wore a plain, mud-colored unisuit, jacket, and weapon belt, with well-worn, comfortable-looking boots and conventional, nondescript features.

His partner, the trigger-happy one, wore a jacket and tight pants made of glittering black patent-leather, with a studded belt. Around his neck and on his fingers (his hands were decked out in glovelets, a bad idea given that these exposed his fingertips, which most bounty hunters knew meant easy fingerprint identification) was platinum jewelry that looked too shiny to be real. His blaster and com looked to be streamlined, advanced models that each had hundreds of buttons and sensors apiece. Gaya, who had grown up in the Orange District and had seen some _serious_ bounty hunters, thuggers, and shady characters, nearly laughed. This guy was new to the business, unlike his partner, and probably put more effort into his style than into his actual work. He wanted to look like a bounty hunter. Real bounty hunters didn't bother trying to _look_ like bounty hunters. They just _were_, and if you didn't believe them, they'd explain your mistake to you by shooting off one of your ears, and then charging you for their trouble.

Beside her, Linxo had gone rigid. "What is it?" Gaya whispered.

_She is coming_, Linxo replied, returning to telepathy so as not to be heard by their captors. _Darth Bane the First. She is nearly here. I can see her approaching, like a storm._

Gaya nodded. That made sense. The ancient Sith's powers were pretty close to limitless, so she would probably know where the apprentices were in about five seconds flat. "Um, excuse me?" she asked the bounty hunters. "Can I just say something for a minute?"

"Shut up," said the flashy one.

"Look, I'm not trying to give you a hard time, it's just there's something you should know-"

The blaster went off. Its beam flew within a few centimeters of Gaya's hair and hit the wall behind her right shoulder, leaving a slight singe mark. The younger bounty hunter snarled, "I said to shut up. Or the next one goes between your eyes."

By this point, Gaya herself could feel the metaphysical shadow in the air, like a change in temperature. It became almost physically chilly; she felt tiny bumps raise on her arms. Deciding that these kriffs deserved no further attempts at warning, she obligingly closed her mouth. She reflected that she was probably lucky this one was not an experienced bounty hunter; otherwise he'd likely have already shot her for continuing to talk. But then, maybe if he had been more experienced, he would have listened to her on the off chance that she was telling him something important.

The three apprentices were the only passengers left standing as the port side of the transport separated from the main body and blew off into the scalding white void. Gaya ducked behind the ladder-shaft along with her friends as shrapnel flew through the air, some of it red-hot. Through the cloud of debris and smoke, the captives and the crew- the crew would still be alive; Bane the First would make sure of that- saw the gaunt, elegant figure of a young woman in black appear, seemingly from the air.

She was wearing the form that Gaya knew she associated with warfare, because Bane the First herself had explained it to Gaya a few months ago, when Gaya had tentatively asked. Her black robe was torn and singed, splattered with red-brown stains; blood that was not hers. Her long red hair was a matted, greasy veil that she dragged on her back, and her smooth white skin was painted almost delicately with a thorny latticework of Sith tattoos.

She carried no weapons. Bane the First was the only modern Sith never to carry a lightsaber, even though they had been in use for years before she joined the Order. In life, she had occasionally used a blunt, rusty-edged antique Sith sword. In death, she used nothing except her teeth. Gaya suspected that she had never been comfortable with weapons, but this was no problem, since she by and large didn't need them.

She killed the stormtroopers, or seemed to, with barely a glance. Her gaze turned on the two bounty hunters, and, as the wreck of the transport hung in the desert air, she approached the experienced bounty hunter where he had taken shelter from the debris under the console. With one long-fingered hand, she pulled him out by the collar, studied him a moment with academic interest, and then threw him bodily from the wreck and across the sand. He fell some distance away; Gaya couldn't tell if he was alive or not.

She rounded on the flashy one, who fired two shots directly into her chest. When she took no notice of these or of his third shot into her forehead, the girls saw the blaster clatter to the metal floor, and watched him fall backward onto the deck beside it. "What are you? What the hell are you?"

Bane the First lifted him by the neck until they were face to face. He was shaking. "Please, lady, please don't hurt me. I don't know who you are, but you can have the brats, and I'll never tell anyone what happened, you can have the credit for the whole thing. I don't even want any money, just let me go-"

He was cut off as Bane the First bent and plunged her white teeth into his throat. Gaya looked away until the sounds were done, and then she, Jaina, and Linxo stood carefully.

"Um, hello, Master," offered Jaina. She was unable to keep her eyes from returning to the spot of blood smeared at the corner of Bane the First's mouth, like badly-applied lipstick.

"Thanks for finding us, Master," added Gaya.

After a moment, she heard Bane the First's voice inside her head. This was easier for Bane the First, since the only language she seemed to speak was Sith. Unlike Linxo's telepathy, Bane the First's words were not really words, but rather image-concepts that Gaya mentally translated into messages. _Cody contacted me and explained that you had disappeared. I have informed your masters what has happened. I have learned much from the men who_ _tried to take you. Come, we will rejoin your 'New Sith'. _

Before the girls could react to the message, all three experienced a moment of unconsciousness- akin to a very long blink, except with all six senses- and then found themselves lying in a canvas tent.

Fighting off the nausea that the sudden teleportation seemed to have caused, Jaina announced, "I think we've found the Thar Tusken, guys."


	8. The Stolen

"Just keep breathing," ordered a voice from behind Luke, echoing in the narrow stone passage along with the teams' footsteps.

Luke barely turned. "I'm okay, Bane."

He felt her hand on his shoulder briefly; in the damp, dull chill of the tunnel, it was comfortingly warm. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Actually, he had come close to panicking earlier, when the tunnel had narrowed to less than a third of a meter across. His Jedi restraint had sustained him, as had a good-natured jibe from Apathian (and you could tell when Apathian's jibes were good-natured, because there were so few that they stuck out like sore thumbs from all the jibes that weren't) about Bane getting stuck, which even Bane hadn't reacted to because she seemed to understand that they all needed to laugh. Now, he tried not to remember sliding himself along sideways, his face passing so close to some rock outcroppings that he could have kissed them, with the roar of the trash compactor from all those years ago sounding in his ears.

Sensing that he needed a change of subject, she remarked, "I think my family liked you. You know, they met a Jedi once before. I think it was your master, actually. Kenobi. He helped my aunt Beiwe give birth. Can you believe that? We'd tried to steal from him before, and he killed a few of our warriors. So one day Aunt Beiwe and some other women and kids were digging for water, and he found them. By accident, we think. Well, they all ran except my Aunt, whose water broke just as he started coming over the dune. So he helped her squeeze the thing out, and then he brought them both back to us. Just walked into camp on foot, carrying Aunt Beiwe, who was carrying my cousin Vercingetorix. My Mom says it was the most badass thing she's ever seen." She laughed. "Plus, apparently your Master was kind of handsome when he was younger. There were several girls who saw that and went and offered themselves to him as brides, but apparently he said no."

Luke laughed. It was a funny story; he felt a sudden, familiar pang of sadness that it was one more thing he couldn't ask Ben himself about. His Master's spirit still appeared to him sometimes, along with Yoda's and his father's, but usually only with a specific goal in mind. There was never time to shoot the breeze or connect emotionally.

"I thought Twyla was your cousin?" he asked. "You know, the one I met. The one who's experimenting with kirbli-plant pollination in that one cave. Married to that skinny guy who's trying to rebuild the speeder he found in that junkyard."

"Wow, you were paying attention. Yeah, she's Vercingetorix's younger sister. He actually got shot by settlers a while back. Speaking of which, could you not mention around my family that you grew up on one of the moisture farms here? My Mom and grandmother speak some Basic, and I didn't tell them you were a settler. But about Twyla…she's nice. We used to be best friends before the Empire took me. She's always been kind of spacey. She and her husband both, really. They're dreamers."

"Wait- you didn't tell them my family were farmers?"

"What's the point? It would just upset them, and you didn't even like farming-"

"It's still part of who I am! I'm not going to pretend to be something I'm not for your family. Would you pretend not to be a Sith for my Master's spirit?"

"Why the hell would I do that? Anyway, he'd be able to tell-"

"It's not a question of whether he'd be able to _tell_! When we get back, I want you to tell them the truth."

"No, Luke."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because they'll murder you. It's a stupid idea."

"Don't call me stupid!"

"I never said you were stupid; it's your _idea_ that's-"

"You are _unbelievable_!"

Bane snorted. "Well, sorry, Master Jedi, I guess I didn't realize you were PMS-ing today-"

"Both of you!" called Witicca, from ahead of them in the procession. "Do you _want_ the Imperials to hear us all down here?" _Under here_ was one of the Althingard caves, which tapered down into a passage that opened up within a walled-off cellar in the base. Now, the New Sith, New Jedi, and assorted Thar warriors crept along it. Darth Bane the First was the only exception; she preferred to work alone, according to Bane the Second, and would rendezvous with the group in time for the raid.

Gaya stuck close by Jaina as cacophony reigned within the base. A few minutes ago, they had cut their way into the base through the partial blockage of the cellar passage to Althingard, and now, they had spread out to their various missions. The Thar warriors were generally serving as a distraction to direct Imperial resources away from protecting the files and personnel within Eidolon. However, once the majority of the battle was complete, Bane informed the teams, they did have plans to search for a "secret chamber" which, according to Jaina's eavesdropping skills and basic grasp of Tusken, contained a "treasure" stolen from the Sand People by the Imperial who controlled Eidolon Base. Gaya was curious about that, but for the sake of the mission, she would stay with the apprentices, whose job was to secure the inner corridors- less risky than the Thars', and less important than the task of the masters, which was to recover files and to capture any wanted Imperials they found.

Gaya had at first been nervous- she had never fought in a real battle before- but she found that if she focused without analyzing her actions, she could get into a groove in which she deflected all the blaster shots that were in danger of hitting her or her teammates, only occasionally letting by one which scorched harmlessly into the wall, or which burned momentarily as it grazed one of their limbs. Looking around, she could see Linxo using her telekinetic skills to misdirect blaster bolts, as Cody- damn, she had never thanked him for approaching Bane the First, which he hated doing, to save them- picked up his refurbished blaster, which he preferred to a blade, and fired with mechanical precision. He didn't shoot to kill, she noticed with some approval, only to disarm, using the Force to target troopers' firing hands, or shooting them in the feet to knock them down.

For her part, Jaina plowed ahead, cutting down troopers when she had to, as if she was always doing this. They were all helping, thought Gaya proudly, even Chad, with deflection. And they were markedly advancing.

She barely managed to move her lightsaber blade as a man in fine robes of deep purple ran at them from the corridor ahead. He fell back as he saw them, scrutinizing them from the floor.

Despite his opulent, even regal attire, Gaya perceived something rodentlike about him. Yes, she decided; he reminded her of an old, overgrown ranat, sleek and well-fed, but essentially most at home crawling through some gutter. "Stop," she ordered, brandishing her blade, and then remembered to add, "in the name of the New Republic."

"Okay," called Jaina above the din, taking charge. "Chad and Linxo, take care of the rest of the troopers. Gaya, Cody, you two help me cover this guy. He's-"

"Sate Pestage!" exclaimed Jacen Solo, coming around the corner with some of the other New Jedi apprentices. "You caught him!" Gaya's eyebrows raised slightly. This was, she reflected, the most emotion she had ever seen Jaina's brother show. "Do the masters know?"

"We do now," thundered Bane the Second triumphantly from behind the young Jedi. "We've been a step behind this sneaky bastard since we got onto the base. Now we've got him."

Commander Skywalker trained his blade on Pestage. "Sate Pestage, you are under arrest for war crimes according to the Conventions of-"

"Oh, please," sneered Pestage, in an impatient tone that did not match his pale, wild-looking features. "Do you really think I fear you two? After your father? And yours, for that matter?" he added to Skywalker. "And they weren't even the most terrifying." He cast a furtive look behind him. "I don't particularly care what you do with me. Take me away from here now. Or you'll all be sorry. So will I, of course. We'll all be sorry together." He laughed ruefully.

"You talking about Bane the First, dear old Uncle Pestage?" snarled Bane. "Oh, that's right. We know about her. I should have figured you'd be in on that sacrificial crap my father rigged up. He probably tried to feed you to her because you knew too much, but I guess there's some filth even she won't stomach." She smiled nastily, her smeared black lipstick and Sith facial tattoos lending her grin a look of savagery. "She's here, you know. In this base."

Pestage grew paler. "You little brat. You have no understanding of Lord Sidious. Just like that savage whore mother of yours. I should have taken Moff Tarkin's advice and blasted your horde to oblivion, without troubling his Majesty with the knowledge of your existence. You and that feeble-minded, half-breed freak of a brother."

Bane's white nostrils flared at the mention of her mother and her half-brother Triclops, but her voice stayed cool, almost eerily so. "She's here, Pestage. She'll be in this hallway any minute. I hope you haven't said or done anything since Father died that might piss her off, because she'll know about it. And she makes my father and Lord Vader look like paragons of forgiveness and empathy." She paused for effect. "Last I saw her, she was down toward the hangar, exploding stormtroopers. That's her new thing in battle, making enemy troops explode from the heart outward. It's messy, but she likes that."

"_Desert trash!"_ he spat.

"Sate Pestage, the exploding Prime Minister. You'll be an artistic inspiration for firework-makers all over the galaxy. I wonder if it hurts. I mean, it happens quick, sure, but if I know Bane she spins it out into an eternity of white-hot pain, really stretches each second like the beams of starlight when you look out the window as your ship goes to lightspeed-"

"I surrender," Pestage snarled at Skywalker. "Take me away from here. And muzzle her, if you don't mind."

"On one condition," Skywalker told him. "First, we're going to have a look at your quarters."

"What are you doing?" Bane hissed at him as they led Pestage up to the lift.

"I'm sorry we fought," he explained quietly. "I thought I'd make it up to you. The Thar found their 'stolen treasure.'"

"Is this going to make me even angrier at Pestage?"

"Could be."

"Good."

The base, according to Commander Skywalker, had, like most old, remote buildings on Tatooine, once been a moisture farm. Pestage's quarters- his _nest_, thought Gaya- were located on the top two floors which curved around the central courtyard space (now the hangar). They passed through luxurious rooms that were totally different from the sparse, joyless facility downstairs. Gaya recalled thinking, the first time she had slept over at Jaina's house during the apprentices' brief summer respite, that Jaina's townhouse was the fanciest home she had ever seen, including the ones on the HoloNet real estate shows Ardan and Niama sometimes watched. This suite made Jaina's house look like…well, like Gaya's apartment. But as the initial awe wore off, Gaya found that, instead of enchantment, longing, and envy, her main emotion was disgust. _This is so excessive._

"Ha," whispered Jaina, having picked up the Force-shadow of her friend's thoughts. "I wonder what he's _compensating_ for, right?"

"I know, right?"

"I can sense the warriors," Skywalker was telling Bane, who led the other Sith masters and Ken. "There should be a panel of some kind here, a hidden-" His voice trailed off as the gaping hole hacked into one of the walls came into view. "Oh. Well, there it is."

As the dim lights in the room were turned up to their maximum brightness, Bane climbed through and peered around. What she saw made her breath catch in her chest. "_Odyn eda Thor,"_ she murmured. Then, louder, "_Ranjana! Hitta sasi adr!"_

"Okay, she just muttered the names of the two major Tusken gods," muttered Gaya, mostly to herself. She'd acquired some Tusken from Ranjana and Bane; she was good at languages, and it was hard not to in any case. "Then…something like…'Ranjana, get over here.'" And indeed, the newly-named Darth Scathach was climbing through the hole in the wall.

"_Odyn eda Thor!"_ Ranjana stuck her head out at them. "All you girls, come in. Master Skywalker, keep the boys away."

Glancing at each other, Gaya, Jaina, and Linxo approached the hole. Jaina and Linxo grabbed each other's hands and held tightly. Jaina climbed through first, helping Linxo. Linxo then offered a supporting hand to Gaya, who declined. She wanted to do it herself.

In the dim light of the room, she looked around, and gasped. The walls of the room were lined with rows of beds packed close together, with almost no space between them. Gauzy curtains, like the kind Gaya had wanted to hang around her bed when she was about six and going through her "princess" phase, were strung up haphazardly around them, giving a thin illusion of privacy. The air was close and thick with the smell of different perfumes mixed together, overlaid with some incense and the stink of many beings living together in a room without much air flow.

It was easy to see where the multitude of beds and the overcrowded smell came from. The room was filled with beings. Most were human; many looked Tusken, either Thar or Chalahari. A few had the mousy, freckled look of farm girls. Some were not human- there looked to be a couple Twi'Leks, as well as some species Gaya couldn't name. All the beings seemed to share only two qualities: they were all young, about Gaya's age or a little older, and they were all female.

As Apathian, Witicca, and the New Jedi Ken held Pestage, Commander Skywalker began rifling through the files of the console in front of him. "I'll need the password to get into this, or I risk erasing information, since there's probably a 'self-destruct' algorithm in the system- there usually is in Imperial software. But just taking into account what I know about this planet, I'd say this base has been a major center of operations in underground slave trafficking. Those girls there- not to be insensitive- I think they're his cut."

Bane climbed back through the hole. She looked absolutely white, and Gaya saw she was shaking slightly. Skywalker and the others watched as she leaned against a wall momentarily, collecting herself. It occurred to Gaya that she was shaking not with fear, but with rage.

"I know some of those girls," Bane said aloud. "They've been missing since about half a decade ago. They were taken when they were about ten or eleven. Maybe twelve. At the oldest. Some were nine." Her hands clenched. "Master Skywalker, you say you need the password."

"Um, yes," said Skywalker anxiously. "But don't worry, we'll figure that out; why don't you just go off for a minute and-"

"Oh no." She laughed harshly. "I don't want to miss _anything_." She approached Pestage slowly. "I'll get the password for you, Luke."

Pestage's eyes widened. "Stop her," he croaked. "I have rights."

Skywalker looked as though he had just smelled something ugly. "Remember you're not a vigilante, Master Bane. We're officers of the New Republic."

"Give him the password," Bane snarled at Pestage. "_Now_."

"Fine." Pestage rattled off a complex series of letters and numbers, which Ken recorded as Skywalker punched in, and began copying files.

Witicca joined Skywalker at the console. "Oh man," he murmured. "Master," he called across the room to Bane. "You're going to want to see this. So is Chancellor Organa."

"Now's not a great time for politics, Witicca," growled Bane, moving reluctantly away from Pestage and back toward the girls. "I'm a little busy right now." She turned to the female apprentices. "Help everyone get dressed, and get them all out of there."

They turned toward the door of the suite as the clamor outside became shrieks of pain and fear. A grin spread slowly across Bane's face. "You know, Master Skywalker, as someone who grew up around Prime Minister Pestage…I don't think this is him."

Pestage stared up at her, bewildered. "What?"

"No, I'm pretty sure we have the wrong man," continued Bane cheerfully. Looking down at Pestage and favoring him with an innocent smile, she added, "And I'd like to apologize to you, sir, for all the inconvenience we've caused you."

Pestage gulped audibly. He was looking over Bane's shoulder, at the blood-sodden young woman who stood there. "What are you talking about? Of course I am-"

"No, sir, it's all right," Bane pronounced triumphantly. "And incidentally, since you are clearly not the man we are looking for, you cannot remain in our custody. You have rights. So we'll be releasing you from New Republic protection." She looked at him gleefully. "I can only hope you don't have any kind of problem with any entity that might possibly be standing behind me right now." Turning to Bane the First, she announced, "He's been kidnapping underage girls and holding them hostage for…nefarious purposes." The group watched as the air seemed to grow denser around Bane the First, like the air before a storm. There was little change to her physical features, but even a non-Force sensitive like Pestage could sense her mood.

Pestage's face was a mask of horror. "But- no- you can't- you can't possibly be serious-" Abruptly abandoning his attitude of annoyed snobbishness, he turned and seized Skywalker's boots. "_I am the real Sate Pestage! And I have information you will want to know! I've been ruling the Empire for almost a decade! There is more that I can tell you than you would ever learn from those files alone!"_ He took a shaky breath. "Don't let_ her_ take me. Please- they say you are a _Jedi_-"

From where he stood, rooted in place by Pestage's prostrate body, Skywalker gave Bane a desperate shrug. "Leia would want us to bring him back alive."

Bane grimaced. "I know. _Dammit_."

Jaina, who was helping the females, many of whom looked physically neglected, through the hole, muttered to Gaya, "Well, at least now we know who nabbed us. It was slave traders working through the base." She grimaced. "Jeez, to think that if Bane the First hadn't come for us we might right now be getting felt up by this pervert…yuck. And you know Palpatine tried to make Aunt Bane marry him before she escaped. Gross, right?"

Gaya nodded absently. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she and the others weren't seeing, some greater significance to the events of the past forty-eight hours…like a game of djarik. She'd never been good at that game, never quite seen the point of capturing queens that weren't rulers of anything real. Ardan, who loved the game, had tried to teach her several times. She remembered his strategies- they were complicated machinations that always seemed to go his way; even when she thought she was doing something unexpected, another seemingly random move or two later, she would come to understand that she had been playing into his hands all along. It was unsettling, because it required thinking of someone in a totally nonhuman way, as if they were a preprogrammed droid or an autobus on a track. She hated the idea of him thinking of her that way, even if it was only a game.

Now, she felt that they were being led along through their reactions to seemingly random events on a game board, events which would, too late, transform before her eyes into a convoluted and multi-layered trap.

But whose?


	9. Politics

Darth Bane took another gulp of tea. Tea-drinking was something she had come into later in life, since the Tusken drank only water, bantha milk, and whiskey. Primarily, she drank it as a source of short-term fuel, rather than as a beverage. Bitter, strong, and lukewarm so that she could drink it faster without burning her tongue- that was how she liked her tea. This stuff was getting cold, but that was fine by her.

She thought, with the parts of her brain not creaking from 'space lag' and lack of proper sleep, that she must drink liters of this stuff every time she had to brief the Senate after a mission. The meetings were always called literally within an hour of their transport touching down, as if the Senate were making known its disapproval of the New Sith by punishing them via sleep deprivation for going on missions. Bane went by herself, these days, except when Luke decided to come along out of some masochistic sense of gentlemanly duty, as he had today.

She yawned without bothering to disguise it. The first time this had happened, she had made an effort to clean herself up prior to appearing before the committee, but now, she generally felt that if the politicians had a problem with her attire or behavior, they could adjust the time they scheduled these meetings for. As it was, her hair hung lank and greasy, and whatever was left of her haphazard makeup was smeared and had bled in the Tatooine heat. She had back the faint sunburn, dryness of throat, and feeling of sand trapped in various places that had marked her childhood; oddly, these gave her a feeling of near-peace.

"Eidolon Base had been maintaining control over the Tatooine political system for over a year, according to their master files," she stated to the table of Senators, headed by Chancellor Leia Organa. "It was enabling several underground markets, including the black market for stolen moisture products and the slave trade. The girls we rescued were a bribe to Pestage, since officially the Empire doesn't condone slavery either. We also found evidence that the base was loaning out its trooper regiments to local powers including the Hutts and the entity Offworld Corporation-"

One of the Senators looked indignant. "You have absolute proof of the allegations against Offworld?"

"We basically have the textual equivalent of their DNA all over the metaphorical crime scene," replied Bane without much annoyance; she was too tired for that crap, she decided.

"Yes," piped up Luke. "And since they swore us an affidavit of their military loyalty after the Battle of Endor, we can prosecute their executives for treason in criminal court. Now, we may not get it to stick, but it'll put the squeeze on them and we can learn-"

"The Ethics subcommittee of the Committee on Commerce has looked over the evidence," interrupted another Senator, with a look at Leia. "We were under the impression that the Chancellor's office had agreed that no criminal action was to be taken against Offworld Corporation. It was decided that the evidence was only suitable for use in civil court."

Bane turned to her old friend, too tired and cynical to feel surprised, as Luke asked, "But L- Chancellor, why-"

"We can return to this point later," Leia said with an air of finality. "What else was discovered?"

As Luke stared at his sister, Bane continued. "We discovered in Pestage's private files information about six cloning facilities that were unknown up to now."

"More stormtroopers?" piped up one of the other committee members. "So what?"

Bane shook her head. "We don't think so. I mean, we don't think it's troopers. For one thing, they're not located on Kamino, which is why we didn't find them when we got there. For another, to be honest, the facilities' blueprints make them out to be way better quality than the ones they use to grow troopers.

"See, with the facilities used to grow infantrymen, they basically go for quantity over quality. That means employees receive standard screening and there's regular but routine maintenance. As a result, for every batch of clones, you get a certain percentage with some mutation or damaged gene that leads to atypical clones. Usually, it's standard practice to euthanize them when the defect is discovered, which is almost always postnatal. But sometimes, if it's a small enough defect, they'll try to use the trooper anyway. That's especially true as their supply of usable DNA shrinks.

"The difference is that these facilities have top-notch cloning specialists, and even unskilled employees go through rigorous screening and background checks. Everything from the building layout to the maintenance schedule is better thought-out. That shows us that these are special clones somehow. Maybe from special DNA. DNA too important to waste on potential mutants."

"The encryption on those files was also the hardest to crack, out of all the files we recovered," added Luke. "In parts, even the automatic cryptographer program we had on the ship wasn't up to it. We had to decode some parts by hand, digit by digit."

"Where are the facilities?" asked Leia.

The Jedi and the Sith looked at each other. At last, Luke said, "We…don't know that. Yet."

"_What?"_ spluttered one of the politicians.

"There were no coordinates in the files we recovered," Bane said calmly. "We have to assume the location was so secret it was actually memorized by Imperial high command. Only people who absolutely needed to know."

"But we're confident that Pestage will tell us where they are," added Luke helpfully. "Especially if we were to offer him some kind of deal." Bane couldn't help but grimace at this prospect.

"I'll meet with him tomorrow," Leia declared, rising. "Then, we'll decide how to proceed. I may need you both back here at that time, but meanwhile-" she shot them a small, sympathetic smile- "why don't you both go home and get unpacked. We'll adjourn for now," she added to the Committee, and with some minor shuffling of data cards, the Senators were soon filing out.

Bane longed to file out along with them, but she noticed Luke hanging back. "Leia," he was starting to say. "About Offworld; I mean, you're not really going to-"

"I'm going to do what the Senate decides I should do. It's called democracy. It's something we do here," Leia cut him off, sinking back down behind her desk, looking and sounding like Bane felt.

"But they're traitors! If it had been an individual doing what they did, he'd be going to prison and you know it. Aren't they supposed to have the same constitutional rights as real beings now? How can that be if they don't have to follow the same laws?" Bane registered some surprise through her mental fog. She hadn't seen Luke get this upset about something in a long time, especially at his sister. She was vaguely impressed.

Leia looked up at her brother, and Bane could see she was angry, too. "All right, Luke. You want to know why they're getting a slap on the wrist? Because we need them. In case you didn't notice, we were at war for years. Actually, the galaxy's been through _two_ wars now, and now our infrastructure and economy are shot. Companies like Offworld couldn't get a fair deal under Palpatine's economic model, so they've supported us, and we still need their support. Without them, we lose jobs, we lose public confidence, and we lose trade because if nobody's making any money, nobody can buy things, and there goes what's left of the galactic economy as we know it. And everyone loves to tell me how we need to be putting money into schools and transportation and crap, but if the economy fails and people lose their jobs, who do you think they depend on to keep them off the street? _Us_, that's who, and we don't have unlimited funds, because in case you hadn't noticed, Luke, _we're still at war with the Empire!"_

Luke had looked mollified then, even chastened. He and Bane had left in silence, and they were silent until the familiar hoverbus back to the Temple, which he always accompanied her on, which she liked him very much for doing.

He said quietly, "I guess she's under a lot of pressure."

From his shoulder, where her head rested, Bane nodded. "She is that."

He turned to her, blue eyes wide and needy. "Mara…Bane…you _know_…I mean, you've _got_ to know, deep down, because it's the kind of thing you're always telling Jaina…she's _wrong_, Bane. About what's happening to Offworld. She's got to be wrong." His look was desperate, silently begging her, with all the emotional fragility of someone running on no sleep at all, to validate this, or, even better, to explain it away somehow. _Your father knew politics; you must know a little…tell me my sister isn't really going to let people like that go free. Tell me the world doesn't __really__ work that way. Tell me __she__ doesn't really work that way._

"Well, _politics_," she said vaguely, trying to stay awake. "You need a special kind of brain to get it. I mean, I've got this feel for it, to some extent; that's how I keep everybody in line. You know, at the Temple. But I don't, like, have knowledge about it. Leia always did. She knows what she's doing."

Even as she said it, she felt it as a lie in her mouth. She knew all the reasons why Leia was doing this- or, more fairly, letting the Senate do this- because she probably did know about as much as Leia when it came to political science, sociology, and economics- hell, they'd gone to the same prep schools, and then she'd gotten her higher education independently (in other words, she'd read a lot of books) while she was trying to take over the New Sith. That might not sound reliable to some beings, but she was still a Palpatine in some ways; she did like to think and learn, so that educational plan had worked better for her than it would for most.

She supposed she should be angry at Leia, too, because the fact was, what her old friend was doing was wrong. Most people would call that hypocritical for a Sith, but just because it was hypocritical didn't make it not true. It was wrong- maybe prudent and economically sound, but _wrong_. It was wrong in the way that you just knew some things were, without any moral code having to tell you. Bane had done a lot of things in her time that other people would think were wrong, and indeed she had done some things she was not proud of. But she'd always tried to stay away from that particular _wrong_, because unlike the others, she couldn't convince herself that it was subjective or justifiable.

But Leia was her friend, and who knew? Maybe she _did_ have secret plans for Offworld that were too confidential to tell anyone about. Besides- and Bane knew this could just be her cynical nature talking- Leia was a politician now. She was not the same girl Bane had known in school. She had gone into the world, and seen its ugliness, and she had had some real power for the first time in her life, and…Bane didn't want to finish the thought; she was just too tired to wrestle with this now.

Governments involved corruption, and compromise, and if you weren't going to do those things you couldn't be in government. That was one reason Bane had focused her ambition on the New Sith, and not galactic politics. She'd had far too much of it as a girl, and she was not eager to reenter that world, where corruption was called "savvy" and people became figures in a data chart.


	10. Awake

Darth Bane opened her eyes, and saw the face of Darth Bane hovering a few centimeters above her nose. This woke her up quite quickly.

Darth Bane the First, who had been floating in the air just over her centuries-younger namesake's sleeping form, settled herself lightly on Bane the Second's desk. In her present form, she was clean of all gore, grease, and tattoos. Her black robe and long red hair moved faintly in the still, slightly musty air, as if she were underwater. The image presented was her usual one, the one she had worn when Luke had met with her. She was young and pure, radiating peace. Her mouth even arranged itself in a small, soothing, close-lipped smile.

Bane the Second felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Privately, she hated being in a room alone with the ancient entity. It wasn't so much that Bane the First was powerful, and probably quite mentally unstable- most Old Sith were- but that she took such pains not to appear so. She was like a Sarlacc pit hiding itself under a tranquil-looking patch of sand that some innocent Thar might ride over on his bantha, and be swallowed before either being even realized what was happening. And beyond the danger, there was something dishonest about it; dishonorable; almost cowardly.

She forced herself to pay attention to the old master. Bane the First was speaking Sith, and although her Sith was slow and not much better than that of her contemporary namesake, who had learned it mostly out of old Sith tomes, Bane the Second still wasn't as fluent as she wanted to be. Besides, the First One often spoke in extremely quiet, almost timid, tones.

"I think you should go and speak to her," she was saying in slow Sith. As she said it, a mental image of Gaya flooded Bane's mind, answering the developing question _who is 'her'?_

That was another thing; the First One seemed to have some difficulty with nouns. Compared to everything else about her, though, Bane hardly found this strange at all.

Still not totally awake, Bane nodded blearily. "Um…yes, my master. But why?" Her Sith probably came a little faster, now that she thought about it, but her pronunciation felt pretty atrocious in her own mouth.

The old master considered this for a long time. It occurred to Bane that she might not be used to explaining the reasoning process behind the orders she gave, especially in a non-telepathic way. When you were one of the most powerful Force-users ever, people probably didn't ask you why you wanted them to do things, especially when you were Bane the First. They just did them.

"I feel she needs to speak to you," she said at last, apparently considering each word carefully. "About…" She gesticulated faintly, unable to sum up the apparently complex reasons. "Your brother."

Bane found the girl curled up in the common room near their kitchen, reading her old copy of _Ten Thousand Years of Darkness_. Bane recalled reading the epic for a literature class back in school; she remembered that she hadn't been as taken with it as Leia had. She couldn't bring herself to care about the love life of Empress Teta, the ancient conqueror whose life the poem was (very) loosely based on, when the more interesting parts of the woman's story- her victories in battle- were only lightly touched on, especially in the sections they'd studied most. For that reason, it had always struck her as a little sexist. Teta was a woman, so the most important thing in her life had to be romance.

But then, it was an old poem. It had been written…around the time that Bane the First had been alive, actually. Huh.

"Hey," she greeted Gaya. "You're up early."

"Huh? Oh- yeah. I just woke up and couldn't sleep anymore." Gaya shifted in her spot on the lumpy couch by the small, grimy window. She shook her head and smiled ruefully. "The, uh, the one day we don't have to get up for class, right?" As a reward for the success of such an important mission, and because she herself had wanted the opportunity to sleep until around noon, Bane had declared that classes would be cancelled that day. "You're, um, up early, too, Master."

"Yeah, the other Master Bane woke me up about something." Bane rubbed her jaw thoughtfully. "Hey, Gaya, just out of curiosity- what's that thing you always have around your neck?"

Gaya took it off and passed it to her. "Ardan…Ardan gave me it. It's, um, just this pendant thing on a chain. I liked it a lot when I was little so he just said I could have it. I, um, don't know where he got it."

Bane examined it. The design on it looked familiar, but she couldn't think from where. "He never said?"

"Well, he said once that he got it at a school he went to," Gaya explained. "But when we showed it to, to the police, after…you know, after he went missing, they said it was the crest of this fancy private school. On Naboo, I think. They checked, and he never went there." She looked away. "They said maybe he bought it. But I think they thought he stole it."

Bane examined it. "Huh. It's the same school Chancellor Organa and I went to. They changed the crest when they re-named it after Senator Amidala, but I'm pretty sure that was what it used to look like." She paused, and then said, "Gaya, what if I did my own searching for Ardan?"

"Why?"

"You and your mother at least deserve some closure. If he walked out on you, he shouldn't just get away with it. And if not, then he could be in danger." She shrugged. "I just feel like the Force is leading me in that direction. Of course, it could take a while because Master Skywalker and I have to find those secret cloning facilities, but I might be able to find something."

Gaya nodded slowly. "That might be…good," she agreed. "I mean, I don't know what we'd say to him if you found him. But I guess it would be nice just to…you know, just to _know."_

"Sure."

Outside, it grew slowly lighter. Gaya said, "You know what I've sort of been thinking about a lot?"

"No- what?"

"Well, not that I don't, you know, appreciate everything you and the Order have done for me, it's just that…I guess it doesn't seem _fair_."

"What doesn't seem fair?"

"Well, that I got to come here." Gaya shook her head sadly. "I mean, I got to come here, and be in a, you know, a better environment. I mean, my classes are smaller, I know the masters better than I knew my old teachers and they know me better, and we don't have so many tests so you can slow the lesson down if people don't understand…and it doesn't seem fair. Because if I had all my same issues but no Force connection, I wouldn't be able to come to a place like this. I'd have no alternative to PS 180. So I worry about all the students I knew who had issues like mine, or worse, who need a place like this, but can't come because they're not Force-users."

Bane leaned back. "Was it hearing about that social worker you knew being dead that brought this up? Because they'll find a replacement for her, you don't have to worry-"

"No, I'd been worrying about this for a while." Gaya shifted. "Besides, Ms. Starkeller…she tried to be nice to me, I know that, and to help me, but she wasn't much different from the rest of them. They didn't think any of the students would amount to anything, but especially the ones with special needs…I think they thought that teaching us stuff was like throwing money in the trash. I mean, I know they have all those HoloNet specials now about Kranders-"

"Kranders?"

"Uh- huh. People with KD. Anyway, they have all those special reports about Kranders who are, like, geniuses with computers or physics or whatever, but…we're not all like that. I mean, when you have KD, it's like if you're not smarter than normal people or better at some special skill, then you're a burden on society or whatever. That's how people act."

"Well…" Bane tried to think of a response. The only thought that her mind seemed to be able to generate was that none of the Old Sith masters had had to deal with heavy stuff like this where their apprentices were concerned. "Well, you know you're not a burden to _us_," she said awkwardly. "I mean, I know Master Apathian can be…_abrasive_ and _impatient_ toward you, and I know his attitude can…can get you down. But we're not letting you come here because we feel sorry for you or anything like that. You contribute to our Order. You're not a burden."

She shifted. "So…Master Bane the First said you wanted to talk to me about my brother."

"Uh-huh. Commander Skywalker's apprentice's father."

"Ken's father, right. So what do you want to know?"

"Well, I heard you saying that he's trying to get a legal name change and since his, um, facility is putting up some struggles, so you and he found some disability advocate group-"

Bane nodded. "That's right. The 'Diversity Alliance.' That's what they call themselves. They're a little more radical than most of the groups, but that's why we like them, frankly."

"That's why I want to be involved with them." Gaya gesticulated momentarily, as if, frustrated by her inability to convey her feelings with words, she was attempting to resort to charades. "I mean, I want to, like, volunteer for them or something. In whatever free time I have between my work and studies here. I looked them up a little bit on the HoloNet. They actually have people with disabilities working for them, in positions of power, even. And they say Krandyn's is, like, a natural thing. Like some people are just born with it, because of evolution. And it doesn't mean we have something wrong with us. None of the organizations that helped my mom out with finding me therapy or that we used to donate to ever said things like that. They would be, like…_sympathetic_."

"You don't want sympathy," Bane said aloud.

"It's better than being messed with, I guess, but no, I don't. It's hard, feeling like other people are being charitable just by letting you, you know, sit with them or whatever." She paused. "It got to be so I used to assume people were just hanging out with me to be nice. That's even what I used to think about Jaina. Sometimes I still feel like that about our friendship."

"Jaina hangs out with you because she likes you. Trust me on that. I'm like an aunt or something to all Leia- _Chancellor Organa's_ kids. Jaina talks to me."

"I know, Master, it's just sometimes emotionally I doubt it. It's not logical. It's just a thing I think sometimes, and I think it has to do with confidence. I think if I spent time around people who've been through what I'm going through now, who learned to be confident anyway, it would help. And besides…I'd be helping other people with Krandyn's. Through the Diversity Alliance."

Bane thought about it. It would require some logistical planning, Apathian would bitch about it, it might set some precedent that could be somehow bad in the future, and it might overextend Gaya. That was even assuming that the Diversity Alliance people needed volunteers. She had a feeling they wouldn't turn down help, though, and it could be interesting to see what would happen if they were linked to the New Sith. But it would be a lot of extra work for Gaya…

She shook her head. Now she was doing it, too. She didn't need to protect Gaya from things like extra stress; if Gaya felt she wanted to take more on, that had to be her responsibility. She didn't need to be one more person in Gaya's life who was treating her with special care. Even Gaya's mother did that, occasionally, Bane knew.

"I'll talk to the person who's handling my brother's case," she said at last, instead. "See if he can give me a contact for volunteering."

Gaya smiled timidly. Bane recalled that the girl had been more timid when she'd first become an apprentice; still, the timidity hadn't left her yet. "Thanks, Master."


	11. Triclops

"You okay?"

Gaya tore her gaze away from the window in the Temple's workout room, which she had been staring into without really seeing. She was tired, having woken up early that morning and not having been able to fall back asleep, but she was also apprehensive. "Oh- uh, yeah," she replied to Cody, who as usual was sharing the workout room with her. Working out was something Imperial troopers did in their leisure time, apparently, so Master Bane allowed Cody to use the room before and after phys ed classes, to ease his transition into his role as an apprentice. "Just thinking."

"You seem worried." Those who looked at Cody and saw only his "jock"-like frame and taciturn nature wouldn't credit it, but the boy was extremely empathetic- his particular Force-ability seemed to be an acute and thorough knowledge of the emotions of those around him. Gaya wasn't sure if that was connected to his genetic identity as a clone, but it seemed to make sense that it would be- clones would have to empathize with each other strongly in order to function well as a team.

It occurred to her that such an empathetic nature must be difficult to deal with when you were ordered to, say, kill the Jedi you'd been serving alongside for months, to use a historical example, or to firebomb a settlement full of civilians. She had often wanted to ask Cody about such things, but she didn't know how to begin, and anyway she would be afraid of offending him or prying.

"Well, I kind of am," she said, deciding to go for broke. "See, I talked to Master Bane about wanting to get involved with other disabled people somehow. So I'm going with her today to visit her brother in the psych ward, and he's going to give me some information about an advocacy organization that's been helping him. I might end up doing volunteer work for them." She rubbed her eye; she was going to stop her workout now; she was too tired. "I guess the reason I'm nervous is I've never been to…you know, to a mental hospital before. I mean, I've never talked to a mentally ill person before either. Except for some street people in my neighborhood. And they didn't have diagnoses or anything."

He set his free weight down. "You should be safe. They have security at those places, and I've heard most patients don't get violent." He paused. "Would you like me to come with you? If Master Bane says I can?"

Gaya felt the blood rushing to the twin ruddy patches on her fair cheeks, and to her ears. She liked Cody; she found herself occasionally liking him in a way that was so strong and desperate it scared her. She had been the one to find him in the old Jedi Temple, and had been the one to walk in on a meeting between him and Bane the First in a geode cavern on Anzat a year ago, and she felt that he liked her, too, in some way. But she had never yet met a boy who reciprocated her feelings toward him; it seemed unlikely that one was going to start now. Still, having him along would make her feel better. "Okay," she replied. "If you don't mind."

Gaya hadn't expected the institution to be such a relatively pleasant building. It was rather imposing and fortified-looking, but in screened-in balconies and on the well-guardrailed roof, she could see some pleasant areas made green with potted plants. "It's different than I expected," she remarked to Bane and Cody.

To her surprise, the master's lip curled in an expression of distaste. "Wait until we're inside."

Inside, Gaya felt immediately overwhelmed. The smells of disinfectant, some kind of nauseating food, and undertones of waste almost made her turn back and refuse to go in. These were coupled with the sounds of an intercom and shoes squeaking along the floor, and with the sight of the seemingly endless, echoing white-tiled hallways. Gaya took a deep breath through her mouth and followed Bane inside, trying not to look anywhere but at her feet.

"It's not great," she remarked to Bane as they received their visitor's passes. "But I've been to a hospital before. When the psychotherapist diagnosed me with Krandyn's. They're mostly all like this inside."

"Wait," Bane ordered, pinning the pass to her cloak. "Okay, you two. Follow me."

The orderly at the desk beside the lift station looked up at Bane with relaxed contempt. "You're back."

"That's right," said Bane impatiently.

"Who're they?"

"Students of mine."

"Be careful with them down there. I've seen things get rough."

"You mean the guy who didn't want to wear pants?" Bane raised an eyebrow. "These two recently helped capture an Imperial base and bust a slave trafficking ring. So, you know, I think they can just about handle a half-naked guy behind a glass wall."

"I hear your brother's applying for a bed in one of the halfway houses."

"That's right. After we get this legal nightmare sorted out, we'll start on that one."

"You shouldn't expect too much from him."

"Huh." Bane shifted. "You know, I've always been of the opinion that it's better to expect too much from people than too little. Of course, the ideal thing is to expect just the right amount. Now, as much as I'd love to keep talking to you, I have to go see my brother. Bye." Gaya and Cody quickened their paces to follow Bane as she swept into one of the lifts, headed down.

The corridors had grown fluorescent and narrow, with considerably less gleam. Gaya could now hear occasional bangs or cries, although they seemed distant and came irregularly. She was still breathing through her mouth; she was afraid to stop. She didn't want to know what it smelled like down here.

"Here we are," announced Bane, coming to one of the metal doors, swiping her pass, and waiting for it to slide open slowly with a drawn-out creak.

The room was about the size of Gaya's bedroom at her mother's apartment, maybe a little smaller. It contained a narrow bed, a metal chest with a broken lock that stood beside the bed, doubling as a nightstand. A few older-looking books (their discs were bigger than the modern nanotech discs and chips most books came on) and a reader sat on top of it. The other furniture was a table with two chairs. There was a small, grimy window, and Gaya realized that a very small refresher was adjacent. Looking in from where she stood, there didn't appear to be a shower.

She almost didn't see the man, because he was gray like the rest of the room- he was pale and gaunt, with shock-white hair and a gray tunic. As she saw him, his eyes fell on her, and Gaya felt herself freeze up. She wasn't sure, she realized, exactly what Bane's brother's issues were. _Bane wouldn't have brought us along if it wasn't safe_, she told herself…_but then, Bane could have been wrong._

But all Triclops did was stand up- he had been sitting on the bed- and hug Bane, who, to Gaya's surprise (because Darth Bane was not a hugger), hugged him back. "How are you?" Bane asked him.

"Not bad," he assured her. "I met with the woman from the Diversity Alliance just yesterday. Things are coming along."

"How are things in here?"

"Fine," he said airily. "You know. Things fall into a routine."

Seated at the table across from him now, Bane leaned toward her brother. "Really? You expect me to believe that? You're a crappy liar, Triclops."

"All right, the orderlies have been looking through my things a bit. And they keep on turning the damn lights on during the night and claiming it's a test of the power grid or a fuse shorting out or whatever else. But that's because I'm making their jobs difficult. It's to be expected."

"What the hell? Because you don't want to be treated like a living doll? Why the hell is it your fault that you're not a vegetable?"

"Mara, put yourself in their shoes. Their jobs are awful. If they can make things into a predictable routine, they can at least get through it without having to think about it much. Now, I don't apologize for functioning at the level that I do, or for the needs that I have, but it's unfortunate for them, too. They have no job security, practically no benefits or rights- they're not even allowed to unionize. The only people they can take all that out on are us."

Bane took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At last, she said, "Well, my apprentice Gaya here has a question for you. That's why they're here. This is Gaya-" she indicated Gaya, who was sitting with Cody on the bed- "And this is Cody."

Gaya tried to smile. "Nice to meet you."

"And you, too," he replied. "Your master has told me so much about you. About both of you." He took a data card and scribbled down a few lines. "This is who you should talk to at the Alliance." He smiled at them. "You know, I'm proud of both of you. I'm proud of all the apprentices. It's refreshing, to see young people devoting their time and channeling their abilities into helping their society." He paused. "Now, your Master did ask me if we could briefly talk privately. Why don't the two of you go upstairs and wait for her? I hope to see you again soon."

"Show me the pendant," he instructed her as soon as the apprentices were out of earshot. "Yes," he murmured, examining it. "It's your old prep school's crest. I looked it up."

"I knew that. What was this Ardan guy doing with it?"

"Did you check the student roster during the year the pendant was minted?" His gray eyes were almost playful. Bane understood that he was solving a mystery now; in here, the affairs of the outside world could seem unreal.

"Yes. His name wasn't there."

"There was another name, though. Quite a famous one."

Bane sighed. "Yes, Triclops, okay. Our father is an alum there. He was never a member of Naboo's upper class, and at the time it was the prep school with the best scholarship program. At least that's the story. So what? You're saying Ardan got our father's old school pendant? Who the hell is crazy enough to steal from the Emperor?"

"He didn't." Her brother sighed. "I've been having the visions in my sleep again. The meds aren't helping right now. And I…it's not just blueprints I've been drawing. I leave myself notes now; the other me is figuring this all out. I know things, but I don't know what I know. It's like being possessed by the spirit of a Force-user but not being one yourself. Here." He handed her a hand-folded dossier of flimsiplast. "Sorry for the condition; you know what my handwriting is like when I'm having an episode. I've been looking at it while awake, but I can't put it all together. Maybe it needs a fresh mind."

"Wait. Your sleeping self has been trying to figure out what happened to Gaya's stepfather? Why? I thought he just designed weapons."

"I can't imagine. It must be important in some way. I don't understand why he chooses to focus on some problems more than others. If it helps, though, other names come up besides theirs. There are mentions of Darth Bane the First, although he doesn't seem to know where she fits in; only that she does. They mention Skywalker and the Solos, briefly." He paused. "You won't want to hear this, but there's one more name that keeps coming up in his notes."

Bane sighed. "Mine?"

"No. Father's."


	12. Pestage

Darth Bane heaved a mental sigh. _My second cell in as many workdays._ It was vaguely worrying that the cell holding Sate Pestage, from what she'd glimpsed of it, was so similar to the room her brother occupied. _Yep, that's our great new awesome government- we treat our sick people like criminals. For this I risked my neck and sacrificed my men, flying a bunch of stolen ships and fighters into the belly of a planet-sized battle station even more dangerous than its predecessor? _That wasn't fair to Leia or the others, she knew, but she thought it anyway.

Across the metal table, Pestage sneered at her. "I really cannot imagine why you are here. I have told your Republic everything it wanted to know. I was questioned personally by your Chancellor Organa, which was extremely gratifying." A smirk spread across his face like greasy wastewater. "I remember meeting her once in passing, when she was in school with you. I considered asking your father for her hand instead of yours, but I must confess I always saw a certain…spirit in you that Organa, despite her bravado and charms, always lacked. An anger, I suppose." He shifted. "And you seem to have made a career for yourself out of it."

Bane took a deep breath and tried to look intimidating. This was difficult, as she was purposely distracting herself partially from the conversation, in order to control her temper, with the mental image of Pestage, tied to four banthas, each pointed in a different direction, and being slowly ripped apart as they each ran separate ways. It was a favorite Tusken method of dealing with "settlers" (the generic term, as far as Tusken were concerned, for anyone who wasn't a Sand Person, but especially the farmers and townspeople of Tatooine) who, for example, kidnapped Tusken girls as Pestage had done.

"I've read your statement. I came about this." She set Ardan Teta's pendant on the table.

Pestage stared at it for what felt like a full minute. He had gone even paler than usual. At last, he said, "I'm not certain what you mean, Princess. I am afraid I do not recognize this."

"It's the engraved setting from one of the rings that upperclassmen receive at the school now known as the Padme Amidala Memorial Leadership School of Theed, on Naboo," Bane told him. "It was pried from the ring itself and punctured, then stuck on this chain. Now, what's interesting is this," she continued, holding the pendant up in case he wanted to have a closer look. He didn't. "This shows the school's crest, which by the way is different now; it was changed along with the name after my father became Emperor, actually. But it also states the year the ring's owner would have graduated. Now, I looked at that school's records. This was found in the possession of a man named _Ardan Teta_." She scrutinized Pestage's face. There- deep in those beady eyes. It wasn't quite recognition, but there was some knowledge brought to the forefront of his mind, especially when she'd said his last name.

"The funny thing is," she kept going, "That there's never been anyone named Ardan Teta at that school. Not that year or any other. But there was someone else- someone who apparently did graduate that year. Someone we both know very well. Although I think you knew him better than I did. I think you were the one person in the galaxy who knew just about everything there was to know about him."

She leaned in. "Which means you know about Bane the First. Well, she's with us now. And you know what happens to people who upset her."

He snorted, although he still looked unsettled. "My dear, if you truly knew Darth Bane, you would know that she is not 'with you.' If you are lucky, _you_ are with _her._"

"Doesn't matter," she replied, deciding to wait until after the interview to process what he had said about Bane the First. "Cause I know I can still get her to make you talk." It was true. Bane the First hadn't been allowed to take blood since coming to stay at the New Sith Temple. If her assessment of the ancient master was correct, Bane thought, the First One probably couldn't wait to attack someone. "And that's the only part of my interactions with Bane the First that is relevant to your life, Pestage. Because I can't legally beat the crap out of you until you tell me what I want to know, but…hey. She's not a civil servant. She's not even alive. How the hell am I supposed to control what _she_ does."

He was quiet for a while. At last, he said, "What is it you want?"

"Tell me what's going on at the cloning facilities."

He raised an eyebrow. "I would assume that _cloning_ is what is going on at the cloning facilities."

Bane glowered at him. "Ha. You got me. But you know, Bane the First isn't famous for her sense of humor."

"Well, you need to articulate your question better," he snapped.

"Okay. _Who_ is getting cloned at the aforementioned facilities?"

In that instant, she saw his face crack open into a look of absolute panic. It was gone so quickly that a woman less certain of her own mind than Bane might have doubted that she had seen it. She understood that this was the one question he had been hoping she wouldn't ask him.

"Pestage, it's time to decide who you're more afraid of," she told him. "Whoever it is you're protecting, or Bane the First."

Pestage took a deep breath. At last, he said, "I understand that you and I have hated each other for about two decades at this point. I know you think your old school friend Organa let me off too easily. It is not easy for me to ask this of you. But I am asking: if I answer your question, make sure that no one knows I was the one who told you."

"I'll do my best." She meant it. If anyone was going to avenge themselves on Pestage, it was going to be her and her tribe.

He leaned toward her, so that she had to breathe through her mouth to avoid the stench of his breath. "The cloning facilities are for the production of clone bodies. For the consciousness of Emperor Palpatine."


	13. Back from the Dead

Leia slumped in her desk. Her hands massaged her temples and face. Without looking up, she said, "Mara-"

"Bane-"

"_Bane_, you have nothing."

Bane was flabbergasted. "Leia, look, I respect you and I love you because we've been friends for so long, but what the hell are you talking about? Listen, I don't know what Luke told you on our way here but-"

Leia glared at them both. "You. Have. _Nothing."_

"But Leia, we've got Pestage's intel," began Luke. "We have the pendant-"

"You have _jewelry_," snapped Leia. "Jewelry and the word of an old politician who didn't want a bloodthirsty Sith ghost after him." She glared at Bane. "Do you two know the kind of pressure we're under here? Do you know how hard everyone here is working to keep the Republic together? Between the Imperial attacks and the recession and everything else? And on top of all that, you want me to go to the Galactic Senate with the story that not only is Palpatine still alive, he lived down in the Orange District for a decade with a girlfriend and stepdaughter, running a cantina."

"Yes." Luke's tone had changed- it was deeper, and cooler, devoid of its usual warmth and somewhat nasally optimism. "Yes, Leia, that's exactly what I expect. Because it's _true_. And people have to _know_."

"People won't know. No one will listen to me, and there'll be a vote of no confidence and I'll be replaced by Borssk Fey'la or one of those wingnuts. You think they'll vote to keep pouring money into both your organizations then? Especially yours," she snapped at Bane. "There's a strong contingent in the Senate now that thinks the money being poured into the New Sith- and the New Jedi, for that matter- is a waste of taxpayers' credits. Some of them are saying it's unconstitutional for us to be endorsing you at all, because you're religious orders."

"Look, don't wave that threat in my face, Leia, I don't give a damn what the politicians say," retorted Bane. "I've got to put people on this. It'd be irresponsible not to."

"But our two orders just caught Sate Pestage and freed an entire planet from Imperial rule just over a month ago," protested Luke. "What more do they want?"

"They want you to wave your magic Force-wands and make everything the way it was before Palpatine was anything more prestigious than class valedictorian," said Leia, looking less angry and more rueful. "The economy. The Empire. Our infrastructure. Civil unrest. The deficit. They just want it all gone, and they're blaming you because you're living on the Senate's credit chip and you don't churn out quantitative, easy-to-grasp results. Because you're _orders_, not _factories_."

"Well, what can we do about that?" Bane shook her head. "We're trying to make Jedi Knights and Sith Lords, not comlinks. It's a little more complicated and you can't streamline it as well. People learning and growing up is always messy and inefficient. That's the mistake they made with the public schools; they forgot that." She looked pensive. "That's how you get Gaya Viviani."

"And maybe Palpatine," remarked Luke thoughtfully. "I mean, we know he went to that Naboo private school, but maybe he was there on a scholarship or something. He's just the sort of person you could imagine clawing his way up from nothing."

"Well, right now I don't need a psychological profile of him, I need to know more about these clone bodies," Leia declared. "How does that whole thing work, from a Force-user's perspective?"

"Well, it's not quite the same as what Bane the First does," explained Bane. "It's easier, for someone as powerful as my father, because you only have to keep your consciousness intact after death, as opposed to your physical presence on this plane of existence as well. Then, you just plug yourself into one of the clone bodies and carry on where you left off. The real danger is that you would be lost in the transition from your old, dead body to your new one. You would have to keep yourself from joining with the Force, as most of us presumably do when we die. But he did."

"Even the Force probably didn't want to join with _him_," muttered Luke. Bane and even Leia laughed.

"So this Teta guy was a clone of his," Luke murmured. "Amazing. I think I met him one time. Last year when Gaya was going home for the summer, he had come to bring her home and he was helping her pack her stuff. I shook his hand. He seemed…kind."

"They say he always seemed like that," remarked Leia. "Until he got so powerful he didn't need to anymore."

"But he didn't look like the Emperor at all," insisted Luke. "He was really young. He looked normal. He had hair and his eyes weren't even yellow." Luke shook his head. "To be honest, he kind of resembled Gaya. I thought they were related until you told me he was her stepfather," he added to Bane.

Bane sighed. She liked Luke, liked him a lot, actually, but sometimes he didn't think things through. "Luke, he would be a lot younger in this body than he was when you met him. And he wouldn't have the scars, because Lord Vader always told me he got those in some duel with some Jedi whose name escapes me. All I remember is that according to Lord Vader, the Jedi was, like, this incredibly angry guy. Just habitually. By Jedi standards. Anyway, that's how he got scarred. If you've ever seen an image of him from back when he was a senator, he'd look closer to that."

"Well, in any case, what if we got some of Ardan's DNA somehow?" suggested Luke. "Then, we could quietly order a standard paternity test. We could use Bane and Triclops' DNA. Since we know Palpatine was their father, if Ardan was a clone of Palpatine, he'd have the same DNA, and the test would say he was their father, too. Then at least we'd have proof."

"It's a good idea, but if Ardan is…smart, he won't have left any DNA behind. He wouldn't take that chance," mused Leia.

"We have to try," insisted Luke.

Bane nodded. "It's a place to start, Leia. We can ask the police working his disappearance, or Niama."

Leia sighed. "Okay, here's what I'll do. I'm going to tell the Senate you're investigating corporate ties to the Empire, and that Ardan Teta is wanted for questioning as a possible material witness. I can stall them for a while. Just get to the bottom of this as fast as you can."

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Luke asked Bane as they trooped out. "I mean, somewhere…kind of nice. Not to a pub like we usually do. What about the fancy place where we had our first date, after you got back from Anzat?"

"I still say that wasn't a date. Besides, it's too public," Bane argued. "All the gossip reporters hang out there."

"So?"

"I thought we didn't want them to know about us."

"I've been reconsidering that lately." He shrugged with a nonchalance that she was pretty sure was forced. "I want to take you out someplace nice tonight."

She tried not to grin or look too enthusiastic, out of habit mostly. "All right, then. I suppose so. But we have to stop off at the Temple first so I can shower and change."

They looked up at the sound of rapid footsteps on the marble tiles of the hall behind them. It was one of the Chancellor's office's young clerical interns. Her name escaped Bane.

"Sorry, Master Bane, but there was just an urgent call for you from the police," she announced breathlessly. "They just took one of the New Sith apprentices into custody. You can pick her up down at their precinct near the business sector-"

"'One of my…' wait, did you just say 'her'?" Bane's pale red eyebrows knit. "Did they mention the name? I guess it wouldn't be Torturian if it's a 'her'…that's strange, though-"

"The name was something like-" The intern paused as she tried to wrap her lips around the unfamiliar syllables. "It sounded like…'Gaya Viviani.'"

"_Gaya Viviani_? Are you sure?" Bane demanded.

The petite young female quailed slightly in the face of Bane's vehemence. "That's what it sounded like."

Shaking her head, Bane turned to Luke. "I think we're going to have to postpone the fancy dinner. Sorry."

"That's okay. I'll come down there with you," he assured her. "Wow, Gaya Viviani…I can't imagine her in trouble with anyone. She's…well, she just seems like such a nice girl."

"Yep," Bane agreed absentmindedly. She also found it hard to believe that Gaya could be in trouble with the law. But then, it was possible. Since the disappearance of her stepfather, the girl had been dealing with a lot. And of course, if their theory about Ardan Teta turned out to be correct, she'd have to deal with even more. Bane sighed. The way things were going, it'd probably be a wonder if Gaya _didn't_ snap.


	14. Civil Disobedience

"I hope I remembered everything I had to do," Gaya confessed. "I just have this feeling I forgot something important."

"No, you didn't," Jaina assured her. "This is going to be great. This is the coolest thing any friend of mine has ever done."

She looked at the other two, dutifully trudging along with them, just a step behind them on the narrow walkway. She wondered if either of them really understood what this event- a rally by the Diversity Alliance outside the local Sector Hall during the school board meeting- would mean to the people who conceived it, the people who attended- and, of course, to Gaya. She realized she would have to try again to explain the concept of civil disobedience to Linxo when they got back to the Temple that evening. Raised in a small, close-knit community in which, aside from a traditional matriarchy, there was very little centralized leadership, Linxo didn't understand the need for people to take their complaints to the streets. For the Anzati, expressing dissent to one's leaders was as simple as opening one's mouth (or in the Anzatis' case, forming words and concepts in your mind and transmitting them to those present).

As for Cody…she knew there was no point even trying to make him understand what all this was about. It wasn't even as if a part of him didn't understand why people would do this- he understood, Jaina knew. But like others of his…well, why not call it "species"? That was what it was. Like others of his species, Cody was uncomfortable with the concept of questioning authority, even when it wasn't him doing the questioning. Especially then. It was no surprise, Jaina mused- he'd been bred to be essentially cannon fodder or riot police, and neither one required a sense of independence or much critical thinking. Jaina reflected that this was why she was so uncomfortable around Cody, why something about his mere presence irked her slightly. It wasn't that he ever seemed to have a problem with Jaina's own penchant for rebellion, but she never knew if he might _start_ to have one. He was an enforcer of the system; she was its enemy. Like Master Bane (the Second, of course). Like her parents, back before they'd gotten so damn bourgeois.

She wondered why he had agreed so readily to come with them, as soon as Gaya had invited him.

Oh. Wait. As soon as _Gaya_ had invited him. Jaina's jaw dropped as comprehension dawned. A second later, she felt a grin spread across her face. Well, good for Gaya. She hoped her friend could figure it out. It was funny- she hadn't known clones could feel things like that for people.

Linxo stuck close by Jaina as they walked through the city, gripping her hand tightly. "Feeling overwhelmed?" Jaina whispered to her.

Linxo tried to smile. _Just a little, _she replied to her girlfriend. She still wasn't used to this crush of people, even after living on Coruscant for a year at the Temple. She knew it would be worse when they got to the rally. To distract herself, she observed the city. She liked to imagine Coruscant as one of the giant-tree forests on other worlds she'd learned about, with its buildings as massive trunks growing from deep below her, up almost farther than she could see. She didn't mind that. And she thought that, despite the crowds, she could live permanently on Coruscant someday. She had a secret dream of finding an apartment with Jaina, in one of the scenic neighborhoods where fewer people walked. But close to the Opera House. Bane and Skywalker had taken some of both their apprentices on a 'field trip' there, for extra credit in their literature classes, and there Linxo had first dreamed of performing on its stage. But she would never tell anyone that. Her family needed her to become a New Sith and advocate for them in the Republic. She knew she couldn't abandon them.

The grounds opened up before them; Gaya gasped. There were more beings than she had ever seen together at once before. The air was loud and warm with their speech and body heat and energy. Most of them carried some kind of placard with a pro-KD pride slogan on it. Most were homemade signs on durasheets, or flags or banners of cloth. A few had gotten more modern, holding up lightweight plasma-screen digital message boards, or even- in the case of the truly technologically gifted- carrying around small holoprojectors that cast the message in the space above their heads.

People with Krandyn's did not often come together, especially not in large, overwhelming groups, Gaya knew. But they were also, as a rule, extremely persistent, and when they resolved to do something, they would do it. Now, she could feel that resolve, and felt cultural pride overtake her anxiety.

They all felt impressed by the organization of it. The center of the grounds had been rigged with a platform and sound equipment, with space around it for standing and camping. Around the edge of the space were canvas tents, where, Gaya explained, water and food would be distributed, as well as literature about the event.

"Have you ever been to one of these before?" Jaina asked her as they sat down.

Gaya shook her head. "No, but I'd like to go to others. Not just for this. I like the energy. I like bringing the issue out to the streets, where people can't ignore it."

"This one came out great," Jaina assured her. "I mean, look how many people came. Great job." It was true- around their area, others had set up chairs, blankets, or tarps, or were simply standing, facing the platform, where a testimonial was being projected.

Gaya grinned. "I didn't do very much. I just ran some errands for the volunteers that have been with the DA longer. But I learned to do some things with organization and stuff."

"Well, Linxo and I are going to get us all some water," Jaina announced, and Gaya watched the girls move off toward one of the tarp canopies, leaving her alone with Cody.

He shifted. Gaya took a deep breath. "Jaina says you don't like stuff like this. Rallies, I mean. I'm sorry if this is making you uncomfortable."

He shook his head. "That's all right. I'm becoming more comfortable with it. I have to be." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I've been researching my own kind, too. All these troops are becoming dissatisfied with the Empire. It started back with Order 66, but it's never been resolved. Master Bane has sources within the Imperial Army, and according to them there is some debate over what to do."

"But I thought…" Gaya struggled to find a non-offensive way to say it. "Well, I thought…I thought you guys couldn't do things like that. I thought…they say you can't."

"We used to think so too. And we're prone to taking orders, and it is difficult to go against the group or disobey authority. But we're sentient beings, which means free will must exist. So we…_they_ are talking." He looked around. "This really isn't bad at all. It's not even disrupting traffic or bothering people or anything."

Gaya grinned again. Cody's degree of empathy with random citizens never ceased to happily surprise her. Despite being rational, he thought of the many by instinct, rather than the few, or even himself. She wished she was more like that.

She decided it was time to ask a question. She was aware of the damage it could do, but she had to ask; she had to _know._ "Cody, if we have time after we check back in to the Temple, and if the masters let us go back out and it's not too late or anything…do you want to go out somewhere with me? Like, to a cinema or a café or something?" She wished Jaina would come back with the water; her throat felt dry. "I've got some money, if you don't," she added, mostly to fill the silence. "It's okay."

He was quiet for a while, so long that she started to feel nauseous with the anxiety of waiting. At last, he replied slowly, "No, Gaya…but thanks. I like being your friend. I don't want to ruin that." He didn't look at her.

She waited for the pain; it didn't seem to come. Instead, she felt nothing. There was only a numbness in her chest. "That's okay. That's what I thought. No problem."

He looked, she thought, like he wanted to say something. But he didn't. She felt a tap on the shoulder. It was one of the DA interns, who smiled at her. "Come on up to the panel, Gaya. They're introducing the people who made this happen. You should be up there with us."

Gaya searched for a socially appropriate response; suddenly she felt even slower than usual. "Are you sure? I didn't do that much…and I haven't been with the Alliance very long…"

"Of course we are; come on! You don't mind if I steal her, do you?" the intern asked Cody, who also seemed utterly without a response.

Gaya had a dim recollection that when a girl was rejected, she was supposed to want to do things like eat sucrose-heavy food and stay in bed with crappy romance novels or holofilms. Right now, the sucrose, her old poison, sounded only marginally appealing; the romantic tales not at all. What she really wanted was to go home- either to her mother's apartment above the Kimorra tavern, or to the Temple, for rest and a few private moments with either of the Masters Bane; both women knew how to comfort her, each in her own way. Since neither of those were options right now, though, she decided what she most wanted was to be as far away from Cody as possible. "Okay, let's go," she told the intern, trying to smile.

She marveled once more at the size and diversity of the crowd- she heard several non-Basic languages and dialects being spoken- as she followed the chipper intern- who did not have KD or any neurological differences, but was merely a sympathetic "normal" person, which probably accounted for her social ease and cheeriness- through it. They climbed onto the sound platform and Gaya took her place at the end of the line of DA members, interns, and volunteers. A small voice amplifier was being passed from person to person; she started mentally preparing what she would say when it reached her.

At the nearest edge of the crowd, she noticed a few police vehicles and officers standing casually, watching the proceedings. As she watched, one ducked down into his speeder, presumably to hear some transmitted message on his com. "Why are there police here?" she whispered to the intern, whose dim Force-signature she could recognize easily, but whose name always escaped her.

"Making sure we don't cause any disturbances." For once, her guide sounded less than chipper.

"We're not doing anything wrong, though. Under the constitution, we have a right to free assembly."

"In theory. We still had to have a permit for this, which has to be granted by the city, and we have to stay within the area specified on it."

The officers had begun to weave their way through the crowd. Gaya wondered idly who they were looking for, and what they would do when they found him or her. "So in theory," she whispered, "The city could deny us a permit, and then we couldn't protest."

The intern looked preoccupied. "I suppose so."

_So we really don't have the right to assemble freely at all,_ thought Gaya, vowing to ponder this and decide if she was outraged about it later. Below them, the police had reached the platform and were pulling themselves up. The member making his speech was cut off as the crowd's attentive hush splintered into murmurs of unease.

The officer who seemed to be in charge addressed the assembled members. "We're looking for a young human female named Gaya Viviani. I have orders to escort her down to the precinct, where she is wanted for questioning in relation to an open investigation."

"What kind of investigation?" asked one of the members.

The officer folded his arms, as if his answer was being dragged from him. "Homicide."

Gaya thought briefly of running, but decided that was stupid. They would catch her eventually, and anyway she hadn't actually done anything- or, to her knowledge, seen anything done. Except to those two kidnappers back on Tatooine, of course. And that had been months ago, on another planet, and they'd been outlaws, and anyway Bane the First's killings were never looked into. "Um, I'm Gaya Viviani," she called out, trying to sound helpful.

The officer nodded. "We're going to need you to come with us, Miss Viviani."

"Um, okay, but why? Who's dead?" For a horrible two seconds, she thought it might be her mother. But no, they would have told her that straight away, she reassured herself. The same would be true if they had found Ardan's body.

"We need you to come with us," he repeated.

The member who had asked about the investigation, another face and Force signature Gaya was familiar with but could not yet pair with a name, said, "Then let her introduce herself, before she goes."

"Sir, she needs to-"

"If you were arresting her," the being interrupted, briefly but effectively fixing his stare on the officer, "You would have given her her rights. She doesn't technically have to go anywhere with you at all. So before she does, you can let her do this."

He put the amplifier into Gaya's hand. Hesitantly, she held it up. The crowd was silent, but seemed to hum with anticipation. She tried to recall what the other members had started with. Hadn't most of them just given their names and occupations? She could feel the officer's impatience.

She opened her mouth. For a moment, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to speak, but then the words began to come, as the protesters, members, and reporters looked on (one reporter having the foresight to record the scene holographically, to be shown later as an unexpectedly popular filler story on the HoloNet news broadcast), and as the officer and one of his colleagues began to hustle her off the stage.

"My name is Gaya Viviani," she announced into the amplifier. "And I'm an apprentice to the New Sith Order."


	15. Harmless Fun

"_And stay out!"_

Krix Graneel fell hard against the wall of the building on the other side of the narrow alley. He supposed he should be grateful he hadn't fallen into the pile of garbage bags, although it might have been softer. At least this way he wouldn't smell, and he could maybe pick up a girl later on. Sure he'd be bruised, but he could just tell her he'd been in a fight with a burly Imperial spy. _Two_ burly Imperial spies, possibly with Sith Lord powers.

He looked back at the club owner. "Your loss, pal," he growled. "My friends and I aren't ever coming back here again."

"Your_ friends_ are still in _school_," the owner snapped back. "And so are you! Get off my property, and don't bother coming back. Trouble follows you and your crowd like seeker droids." He slammed the back door, hard. Krix actually heard the old metal frame clink as it trembled.

Had Krix Graneel been imaginative enough for superstition, he would have mused that his luck had gone to the ninth Corellian Hell ever since he'd been suspended for that thing with that fat chick from his phys ed class at PS 180, Gaya Viviani. True, the suspension had only been for two days, not even close to his longest, which had been a whole month blessedly devoid of school. Krix didn't really mind suspensions, but it was the principle of the thing. Two days was fair, Krix thought, considering Viviani had nearly electrocuted him at the time. She hadn't meant to, of course. Their instructor had warned them about the girl's condition, so that they'd be appropriately "sensitive"- she had Krandyn's Disorder, which as far as Krix was aware meant she was some kind of retard. That was what had made screwing with her so much fun.

He decided he'd had enough hard thinking for the night, and went to look for chicks. He'd always had a thing for brunettes; at first when Viviani had tried to ignore him and his friends' antics, he'd actually wondered if she was playing hard to get, which, needless to say, had further pissed him off.

He swung to the right and entered an alley. It occurred to him distantly that he wasn't actually sure where he was, but, he decided, his gut had carried him this far in life, and it would carry him farther still. And his gut said there were girls this way. Brunettes, his gut assured him. It had almost taken on a silent voice of its own; a silky, soothing voice that made Krix even more anxious to follow it. _Brunettes. Petite humanoid brunettes,_ it murmured, urging him onward. _Alcohol and spice and death sticks, as well. All good things in the world. All for you._

He reacted when he was grabbed in the gloom by the unseen pair of hands, but he'd already managed to down a couple drinks at the club before the bouncer had recognized him and they'd taken a closer look at his fake ID. Besides, he couldn't find what he was trying to punch at. At first he thought that his assailant was so fast, he seemed to be trying to punch the night air itself. At length, he realized that, impossibly, he _was_ punching the air. There was no attacker- or if there was, he or she was somehow not physically present in the fight.

He tried to scream as the invisible force lifted his still-resistant body further from the ground. As he opened his mouth, he felt his windpipe constrict until he could only gasp, blood pounding in his ears. _Don't scream,_ advised the inner voice, which Krix was starting to suspect was not in fact his gut at all. The hold on his throat relaxed and faded. _If you try to scream again, I will take hold of your throat again. And this time I will not let go until you are dead._

"Okay," Krix whispered, nodding vigorously. "I won't."

He was propelled through an open window, and deposited hard on a duracrete floor. Through the dim city light that leaked in through the window, which clicked shut and locked behind him, he perceived two other figures crouching on the floor. He realized, with a cold chill, that they were his crew.

"What do you want?" he asked the room at large. "What do you want with us, man?"

A beam of light from a passing airbus fell on the figure shrouded in shadow. Peering into the dark, Krix stared at the unexpected presence before him.

"Please," said his mouth at last, feeling dry. "Please let us go."

Inside his head, and outside it too, he heard the figure laughing, and he began to sweat.


	16. Law and Order

Gaya wished, despite herself, that Cody was with her right now.

Primarily this was because he was the only person she knew who had ever been anything close to arrested before. Of course, at PS 180, she'd seen a few arrests, some in the middle of class- and both students and a few teachers had been the ones "wanted for questioning"- but Gaya had never hung out with that crowd, even back when she had had friends in her classes.

After they- after _she_- had found Cody, seemingly abandoned and half-starved, living in the old Jedi Temple, apparently a sacrifice by the Emperor to Bane the First, who had decided to keep him alive for reasons of her own, Cody had been detained as an Imperial trooper at this very precinct. Not for long, and they hadn't done anything even remotely bad to him, but he still might know how this would go, and he would be able to calm her down. As it was, Gaya couldn't even begin to think what this could be about. It couldn't be Krandyn's- or rally-related, nor could it be New Sith-related, since no one but her had been arrested.

She really wished Cody could be here. There was something soothing to her about his presence; she reflected; that was true to some extent of all her friends and especially her family, and of both Master Banes, now that she came to think of it. But it was different with him; he really did seem as if he would protect her, even when she knew she didn't or shouldn't need protection.

Of course, that was before he had…well, before he'd rejected her. She had done her best to mentally prepare herself for the distinct possibility- probability, more like, she thought- that he would say no, but it didn't seem to help. She realized that the prospect of being just friends hadn't seemed so bad before because then, there was the unconscious hope that that might someday change. Now, what she was experiencing, she realized, was the death of that hope. It brought not pain, but a cold feeling of despair that made her want to do something- anything- to change his mind. Or to get revenge, even though she knew he hadn't done anything wrong. But emotionally, it seemed to be a choice between breaking down in tears and committing herself to the prospect of being alone for the rest of her life, or blaming him and being angry with him for his inability to recognize what an awesome girlfriend she'd make.

She was happy when the cop came in, because at least it was a distraction. "Hello, Gaya," he told her kindly. Unlike most Guards of the Republic, he wore civilian clothes and was probably- from all the crime shows she and Ardan had watched together- some kind of detective.

Through the Force, she was able to probe his mind- it was anything but weak, but he wasn't Force-sensitive and so couldn't really block her. She tried to hide her reaction at what she found. _He thinks I did…what?_

Struggling not to assert her innocence immediately- that would make her look more guilty- she sat back. "Hi. I'd like my Mom to be present, please. And Master Bane. That's Niama Viviani and Darth Bane." She gave him both addresses.

"We know how to find them," he intoned, looking a lot less kind. "Gaya, don't you want to know why you're-"

"I want to talk to them first," Gaya insisted. She knew how this stuff went. "I have a right to have them present when you question me, and if I can't talk to them, I'm not going to talk to you."

"Gaya, listen to me," he said paternally, leaning in slightly. "Once we get them involved, they're going to want to get a lawyer down here, and then it's just going to get all complicated"-

"I want them present," Gaya demanded, and then, because she was starting to get angry, added, "And I've watched HoloNet crime stuff before, so I know that when cops say that it just means they want to interrogate you without anyone advising you on what to say. That you're even trying that is insulting. I'm not stupid."

"Do you need advice on what to tell me?"

"I want my Mom and Master Bane."

They looked at the image the detective projected before them. At last, Niama said, "Oh, my god." Then, she pulled herself together. "What makes you think Gaya knows anything about any of this?"

The detective smirked at them. "She's the only common thread linking these boys to Eirelan Starkeller. Besides, all the wounds found on the bodies were made by a lightsaber."

Niama's horror was swiftly turning to rage. "And you think my daughter just went and killed all these people? That's all the evidence you need to believe that?"

"And, just to be clear, it is not only all the evidence you need," interjected Bane. "It is, in fact, all the evidence you _have_. Because the, uh, 'the forensics aren't back yet.'" She gave the detective an incredulous look, which he was able to withstand.

"She has a motive, too," he replied, looking stung. "Those boys were harassing her back at PS 180-"

Niama gave a sarcastic laugh. "I love how someone's finally admitting that it even happened. I guess it only becomes an issue if someone dies and there's a chance the school could get into any trouble, right?"

"And," he continued, tactfully ignoring her, "Maybe she thought Starkeller should have backed her up." He glowered at Bane. "That's what you people believe in, right? Vengeance?"

Bane grinned in mock amusement. "You know, lieutenant, I just love getting back from a dangerous mission in the Outer Rim in which I defended your freedom not to live in a galactic police state, and then getting to listen to you slam my religion and accuse my apprentice of multiple homicides. Would you mind terribly if I asked you when any of these killings took place?"

"Starkeller was found a month ago," he informed them grudgingly. He named the approximate date.

"Well, that's easy, then," Bane countered. "Gaya was on Tatooine with me and Commander Skywalker that entire week." She glared at him. "You don't trust me worth a damn, but I assume you'll trust _his_ word?"

The detective sagged slightly. "The others were only a week ago." _She still could've killed them,_ was the hopeful implication.

"I don't know what to say about that," Gaya admitted. "I guess I was at the Temple, you know, studying and going to bed- oh, wait," she remembered. "All but one of those nights I was at the Diversity Alliance headquarters. Doing stuff for the rally they had today. You can talk to the people there. They'll remember me." She paused. "The one other night…yeah. I would've been in my room at the New Sith Temple."

Niama gave him a disbelieving look. "Honestly, did you even bother to check _any_ of this before you dragged my daughter down here?"

The detective looked briefly down at the table. "We were concerned she could leave the planet," he muttered, in the tone of one who understands that he is fundamentally without a leg to stand on.

"I see," intoned Bane, regarding him stonily. The detective sunk slightly down on the chair that he had, until recently, been straddling jauntily.

Another officer came in, handing the detective a flimsiplast printout. He studied it, and a resigned, almost dignified look came to his face. "The forensic results," he said levelly, almost nobly, holding the dossier out to Bane, who had the grace to accept it and read the printout inside without smirking.

"May we assume," she said at last, setting it back down on the table, "that Gaya is free to go?"

"Yes," he replied calmly. "I apologize for any inconvenience we've caused her. Or either of you."

"Although," he rallied as he showed them out. "I don't know if you caught it on that readout, but it looks like the person who did this stuff…obviously, it's not her. We found a Y chromosome, so it was a male. But the DNA is similar." He turned to Niama. "We might be asking Mr. Viviani down for a DNA test. I want to prepare you for that." Beside her, Gaya felt Bane stiffen to attention at this piece of new information.

Niama blanched with rage. "I don't kriffing believe this. I'm sorry, I've got to get out of here." She hugged Gaya. "I love you, honey. Call me tonight, okay?"

"Sure, Mom." Gaya turned as her mother left and drew closer to the conversation between Bane and the detective.

Bane gave him a look that was nearly sympathetic. "There is no Mr. Viviani, Mister Tact. The closest thing was a man called Ardan Teta. He vanished a few months back. Your precinct is supposed to be investigating his disappearance." She drew closer. "Now, I don't want to beat around the bush with you, lieutenant. We both know this is not the first time you've…_jumped_ _the ion cannon somewhat_ in pursuit of a confession, am I right?"

Gaya didn't register any change in the man's face, but she heard him hiss, "How did you-"

"I'm a Sith. We always know. Now, I'm guessing that the thing you really don't need right now is another complaint lodged against you. I can make that happen. Or, rather, not happen. Would you like that, lieutenant?"

The detective inhaled deeply. "What do you want?"

"The DNA from the crime scene, shipped to the labs at the New Jedi Temple. We don't have fancy forensic labs over at the New Sith. Not all of it, though. I have no interest in any kind of cover-up. Just samples. Enough for a…oh, a standard paternity test, I'd say."

The detective chewed his lip. "What if I say no?"

"Then I'll have your badge," said Bane calmly. "That phrase is a HoloNet cliche, I know, but in this case, it will be true. And I might not be satisfied with just the badge, either." She grinned. "You said it yourself, lieutenant: we Sith have a thing for vengeance."

He was silent for a few minutes. At last, he muttered, "Okay. Expect them tonight, around midnight."

She nodded and swept past him. "Excellent. Come, Gaya."

"Why do we need the DNA samples, Master?" Gaya asked later, as they rode the familiar airbus back to the Crimson Corridor, where, due to the reasonable rent deal the New Republic had gotten, the New Sith Temple was located.

Bane shook her head. "Honestly, Gaya, I'm not sure. I just have a feeling." She paused, and then explained, "When we recovered Pestage a few months back, Gaya, he provided us with some information about a secret plan of Emperor Palpatine's."

"No offense, Master, but how could this relate to that at all?"

"Outwardly, it doesn't. And it may not," replied Bane cryptically. "But I've got a feeling. Somehow, it's connected. All of it; everything that's happened. Maybe even Ardan's disappearance. Somehow, it's all connected."


	17. The Reception

"I still don't really understand why your mom wants me to be there," Gaya remarked. "Can you zip me up?"

Jaina obliged. "Well, I heard Aunt Bane and Uncle Luke talking-"

"By the way, why do you call her your aunt? Sorry for interrupting, it's just I've been curious."

"It's just this thing that my mom says you do with people who are really close friends of the family," Jaina explained. "Anyway, I overheard them. Apparently a bunch of people recorded the footage of you getting taken away by the cops at the rally. It's on the HoloNet. I think Mom thinks it could end up being bad press for the government somehow. So she wants to make it seem like it was all just a big misunderstanding."

"Well, it basically was. I mean, your mom had nothing to do with it. It was just some police guy getting, like, overzealous."

"Yeah, but she's worried it could end up being made into a thing about disabled people getting abused or New Sith causing trouble or even the public schools failing or Coruscant becoming a police state. I mean, a lot of people don't know this, because the HoloNet doesn't cover it, but there's this relatively big opposition movement brewing. Not Imperials or anything. Just people…objecting, you know. To how things are." She straightened up beside Gaya. "Take a look."

Gaya turned to stare at her reflection in the somewhat cloudy full-length mirror of the girls' locker room at the New Sith Temple. She was…surprised.

She didn't wear dresses much. When you were a New Sith apprentice and a nerd who had never been exactly in demand for dates, you didn't. She also generally preferred comfortable, practical clothing, for sensory reasons. The last fancy dress she had worn was the dress she'd been given for Niama and Ardan's wedding, at which she had been her mother's bridesmaid. And that had been years ago.

But when Chancellor Organa had invited her, along with Bane and Master Skywalker, to the reception, Bane had taken her to the plus-sized dress place where she went on the rare occasions when she bought clothes, and now Gaya found herself wearing a full-length gown that somehow seemed to fit like a glove. It was a rich deep blue-violet color. It was probably the most beautiful thing she'd ever worn.

"Thanks," she murmured at last, remembering that Jaina was there. "For helping me get ready. And for letting me borrow your earrings."

"No problem." Jaina grinned. "Let's walk by the guys' rooms. Maybe Cody will be there." Gaya had told her about asking him out at the rally. "We can show him what he's missing."

* * *

><p>At the reception, after the thrill of wearing the dress had worn off somewhat, Gaya began to realize that she was bored. She was years younger than everyone else there- the second youngest people were RanjanaDarth Scathach, and the New Jedi Ken, who kept trying to wear down Ranjana into dancing or having a drink with him. For a while, she and Ranjana had talked, but now Ranjana was spending most of her energy avoiding Ken and helping Bane with what Gaya had mentally dubbed the pro-Tusken lobby. Everyone else was too old and dignified-looking to try to start a conversation with.

She turned to Bane's handbag, on the table next to where she sat. Bane's comlink was going off. After looking around and not seeing the master, Gaya took a deep breath and answered it tentatively. "Um, hello?"

It was Master Witicca. "Gaya? Where's Master Bane?"

"I'm not sure. I'm looking for her."

"Okay. If you see her, just let her know the test results are back, and there's been a new development with the extra sample we-" He paused. "Never mind. Just tell her the test came back and she needs to call me back as soon as possible. She'll understand. Okay?"

"Yes, Master." He terminated the call and Gaya put the comlink back. Taking the handbag with her, since even at a government reception it seemed like a bad idea to leave it unattended, she went to look for Bane.

* * *

><p>Bane was trying her damnedest not to giggle. It was a horrible thing to admit to herself. She comforted herself with the fact that she wasn't having the urge to giggle because of Luke's romantic prowess, exactly- her neck was just extremely ticklish. Yes. That was what it was.<p>

"There are dozens of reporters trying to sneak in here," she hissed instead. "They could see us."

"I don't care. I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Listen…_Meargeode."_

His use of her Tusken name- and his surprisingly accurate pronunciation- swept whatever Bane had been going to say next from her mind.

"You remember on Tatooine, before we went down into the tunnels, when your grandmother and I talked privately?"

"Yes, of course I-"

"Well, she gave me this." He fished around in the pockets of his dress jacket for a minute, and produced a richly carved silver ring set with an iridescent milk-white stone.

"But that's the ring my grandfather gave her as part of his dowry to her." Bane frowned. "She was going to give it to my mother at her wedding, but of course because of my father that never…why the hell did she give it to you?"

Luke paused for a long moment. Then, he opened his mouth carefully.

"Master Skywalker!" An aide rushed from the hall out to the alcove where the two of them were standing. "And Master Bane," she added courteously. "Chancellor Organa needs you right away! Someone's attacked the two Temples, and now there's some man transmitting live over the HoloNet, saying he's Emperor Palpatine!"


	18. Ardan's Daughters

Gaya was staring at the wall when there was a knock on her door.

She had homework to do. Or studying; you could never be too prepared for class. Or she could have just read.

She didn't seem to be able to concentrate on anything right now. If she tried, she felt sick to her stomach.

A few hours ago, her biggest complaint had been that she was bored at a reception. She hadn't known how lucky she was.

_I should have brought Jaina with me. Her and Cody. Chad, even. We should have all come. Or I should have stayed with them. I know I wouldn't have been much help, but at least we'd be together…_

What was she going to say to Chancellor Organa?

She answered the door, dimly aware that she was still wearing her reception gown. She hadn't even been able to focus long enough to change clothes.

_What if they die? What if I never see them again? Oh please don't let that happen, not just for my sake but also because it would kill Jaina's parents…_

It was Master Bane. She looked like Gaya felt. "Gaya, we need to talk to you."

"Is it about…about Jaina?" Gaya heard herself ask as they walked. Her voice sounded scratchy with the effort of not crying. "Jaina and everybody else?"

"Yeah. Yes, it is." Bane drew a deep, shaky breath. "I should have told you about it before. _We_ should have. We should have picked a better time than this. Gaya, I'm sorry. I should've thought…but I didn't know he'd try this. None of us did."

The empty classroom was lit jarringly by the Temple's typically cheap old fluorescents. Blinking, Gaya sat down at one of the desks and waited. Both Jaina's parents were there, as well as Commander Skywalker and a suavely dressed man, looking just as frantic as the rest of them, who Gaya recognized as Chad's father.

Bane walked slowly to the central desk. "Chancellor Organa, Mr. Solo, Master Skywalker, and Mr. Divinian. As you know, three hours ago, both the New Jedi and the New Sith Temples were attacked by Imperial troops-"

"How were they able to breach Coruscant's airspace?" demanded Chad's father.

"We're still figuring that out. It looks like there were Imperial sleeper agents at work."

Chancellor Organa shook her head. "This is going to mean a complete investigation of our security forces- law enforcement, military, corrections-"

"Speaking of corrections, Pestage has disappeared, too," interjected Master Skywalker. "The prison warden called an hour ago. He was taken to the infirmary with some alleged stomach complaints, and from there they had him away in an emergency transport before anyone realized what was going on."

Bane paused, and then continued. "As you know, these forces were able to overpower both our orders' masters, and to abduct Jaina and Jacen Solo, as well as Chad Divinian and Cody of Kamino.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, we're still uncovering new information about their kidnapping. Normally, Mr. Divinian, we wouldn't share what we know so far with a civilian, especially considering its inflammatory nature, but since your son is one of the missing, we thought you should know." She took another moment, and then concluded, "We believe Emperor Palpatine is behind the attacks, and the abductions. We don't know why yet-"

"Are you…is this some kind of joke?" Divinian blustered. "I have to tell you, Chancellor, I'd heard from my son that _this woman_"- he indicated Bane- "was several cards short of a Sabacc deck, but this is just-"

"Lune," said Jaina's mother quietly to him. "Sit down and listen to what she has to say."

Bane sat. "A few months ago, Gaya Viviani there told me that her stepfather Ardan Teta, up until then a devoted family man, had gone missing. More recently, we discovered files about secret, special cloning facilities. We discovered that these facilities were used to create clone bodies for Palpatine's spirit to inhabit in the event of his death. When we found the facilities, one body was unaccounted for. We haven't even told the Senate that yet.

"That's not all we've learned. We performed a standard paternity test using DNA recovered from the Teta-Viviani family apartment. It was Ardan's. We tested it against my DNA and my brother's. We also did a paternity test with the DNA recovered from the murders of Eirelan Starkeller and Krix Graneel and his friends- Gaya's old social worker, and the boys who used to harass her.

"Those murders were committed by the same person whose DNA we got from the apartment. The person who was shown to be my and Triclops' father by the test. The person who's a genetic copy of Palpatine…Ardan Teta."

For a moment, Gaya felt as though nothing had changed from the time before Bane had said those words. Then, she registered a stab of nausea in her stomach, and realized that her chest felt tight. She was breathing- she was pretty sure she was breathing- but somehow the air wasn't reaching her lungs, and she couldn't get enough of it; couldn't take it in fast enough.

She felt Bane's hand gripping her arm. "Gaya. Breathe. Concentrate on it. Concentrate on each breath. Come on, Gaya. Feel yourself breathing in. Now out."

Slowly, Gaya felt her breathing rate decrease to normal. "Sorry," she gasped.

"Bane, are you sure we have to do this?" asked Master Skywalker, brows knitting.

"There's no time to wait for her to process it," Bane told him. "Gaya, I'll give you a few minutes, but…"

Gaya sat back and nodded, willing herself to think of nothing except the taste of fresh air in her lungs. "It's okay. I understand. The longer we wait, the farther away they get."

"That's right." Bane took a deep breath. "Gaya, we've talked it over. You need to go after them."

Gaya willed herself to keep breathing slowly, steadily. "Alone?"

"Yes. You can do it."

"Why me?"

Bane looked at Master Skywalker for a moment, and then said, "We think there's a chance…you're the only one he wouldn't kill."

"But he's Emperor Palpatine really- isn't that what you found out, that Mom and I were just covers for him-"

"Yes," Bane cut her off. "But we did another paternity test, Gaya."

Gaya knew. She knew without even needing to hear the rest. "It said I was his too, didn't it?"

"Yes." And she'd always felt that to be true, deep down, but it was impossible…

"That just proves it, then," she said instead. "Your lab's…paternity test machine or whatever made a mistake. It's got to be wrong. Because he can't be."

"We did multiple tests using different lab equipment," Master Skywalker said almost apologetically. "Enough tests to make the probability of false positives…really close to zero. Really, really close to zero."

Gaya fought the returning sense of nausea. "So why can't you go?" she heard herself snap at Bane. "He's your father too, right?"

"He never liked me," said Bane simply.

"Well, he never liked me either, even if I am somehow his kid, it doesn't change anything-"

"Gaya, I knew him," Bane said as kindly as she could. "He could have put a lot less work into charming your mother. Really he could. I like Niama, but he's a truly skilled manipulator and she was lonely. I've seen him lavish effort on both of you- especially you- that he never gave anyone else that he used. I'm not going to stand here and tell you that I'm sure. But it's our best chance."

Suddenly Gaya just wanted to sleep. Her gown now felt hot, heavy and constrictive, itchy even. She needed to be alone. She needed to go home. But…_Jaina and Cody- well, and Jacen and Chad- they need me…_

_Besides, maybe this is better- I'll go, and Ardan won't even be involved, and at least I'll __know__ for sure then, I won't have to spend the rest of my life wondering, and they'll see they were wrong about him…_

Defeated, she heard herself mutter, "Tell me what you want me to do."


	19. The Citadel

Extreme anxiety had the tendency to make Gaya sick, sometimes physically. She remembered she'd gotten sick to her stomach the day she'd left PS 180, as soon as they'd gotten home. At the time, she'd been dealing with the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush that had come from defending herself (accidentally) from Krix and his gang with Force lightning, as well as the fear of punishment, the terror and frustration of being physically bound with the restraints from the school's special education department, and most of all, her shame at her ultimate failure at normality and neurotypicality. It had all been too much.

Now, she wondered what Ardan- she couldn't bring herself to call him anything else, at least not in her head- had thought of her then. It sickened her to think that he'd witnessed it; that he'd been privy to all the moments of weakness, humiliation, emotionality and ineptitude that had more or less marked Gaya's development. She thought bitterly that Ardan, who had looked so concerned and even protective (it disgusted her now), had probably been making every effort not to crack up. It was probably the sort of thing he would find really amusing- people like him, Gaya knew from experience, secretly felt weak, and therefore liked nothing better than to kick someone who was already down. The Sith in particular seemed to attract that type- those with a hole inside them, constantly searching for things- power, in their case- to fill it with. People with that emptiness didn't have to be evil like Ardan, of course- most New Sith people weren't, as far as Gaya could tell- but a lot of them seemed to turn out that way.

Emotionality and ineptitude…before this year, Gaya never would have realized that she thought of herself, unconsciously, as a naturally incompetent person. Because of the Krandyn's, she'd always had trouble with everything from flexibility to change to processing, and she supposed that somewhere along the way, others' reactions to this had directed her own. When she looked at her career at the Temple rationally, she was far from inept. At some things she was better than most of her peers, and even in her most challenging subjects, physical education for instance, she was either average or only marginally below it. She worked hard, too, which, she realized, was more than could be said for some of the others, for example Chad. Yet she saw herself as a basically untalented person with brief periods of competence, not as the generally successful person she actually was.

She wondered momentarily if that was Ardan's fault. Had he done something- some subtle abuse she was too young to recognize- to plant that seed in her mind? Or had he done something through the dark side, a kind of slow poisoning through the Force? But even as she wondered it, she knew it wasn't that. It didn't need to be. It was the Krandyn's, and always had been.

_Why the hell am I thinking this now? Uh, well, gee, Gaya, maybe it's because your mind is tired of trying to process the fact that Ardan was the dictator of the galaxy in his past life._ Gaya nodded at this; she looked up at the Red Guard standing next to her in the shuttle, and realized that to him, it probably looked like she was carrying on some kind of conversation with herself. Between that and her nervous stimming, he was going to have some great stories to tell his other guard friends, she thought sourly. And then she wondered, _Why should I care what some random Imperial thinks of me?_

The thoughts of guards and Imperials nudged her memory; hadn't there been stormtroopers with them? Yes, behind her seat. Slowly and carefully she turned and addressed one. She found them less creepy than the Red Guards, because they'd patrolled Coruscant as law enforcement and she had often seen them before the Alliance's victory, and because after knowing Cody, she could be certain that they did in fact have faces under there somewhere.

"Um, excuse me," she said, her voice seeming loud in the silent shuttle. "I'm, um, not sure which unit you're with, but, um…I know this guy who's a clone and he used to serve in…I don't know the number exactly, but it was the same unit as a guy called Burninator, and it was the unit that the original Commander Cody used to be in, if that helps. Anyway, I don't know if you'll be able to do this, but if you get a chance, could you maybe contact his unit and just tell them he's okay? Like, he's not dead or a prisoner or anything…until now, I guess. He's a prisoner now, here. He was fine, anyway." She sighed. "I'm…I'm going to try to make sure that he'll keep being fine." Cody had once told her that most Imperial troops were surprisingly close knit, with secret names, rules, and methods of communication that most Imperial officers spent their whole lives unaware of, a culture that had evolved due to the extreme team mentality cultivated in Imperial clones from the moment of their birth, as well as the savagery of the Clone Wars. Gaya hoped that somehow the message of Cody's relative safety could be passed along, in case the other men in his unit were worried about him or thought he was dead.

For a moment she wondered if he had heard, if she shouldn't have said so much in front of the Red Guards, if he could even get the message to Cody's unit. Then, she thought she saw him nod briefly, almost imperceptibly, and she turned back around.

Cody was here somewhere. She could feel him, and Jaina, and she could even vaguely feel Jacen and Chad, though their Force signatures were less familiar. She tried not to think about Cody, even now. In the tiny part of her mind not occupied with this mission or feelings of intense shock, she admitted to herself that she was constructing a fantasy where Cody fell madly in love with her as a result of her rescuing him. She tried to stop that thought process; she couldn't deal with more disappointment right now.

Out the window, it was raining. Here, the rain, like everything else including the moist, somewhat thick, almost clammy atmosphere itself, was tinted green, giving the actually quite beautiful (if dangerous) illusion that small green gems were falling from the sky. At least that was nice. On Coruscant, the rain had been nothing so much as a damp, foul-smelling mist that could corrode metal over time and was occasionally punctuated by pelletlike, swollen drops of icy water that seemed strategically angled to hit pedestrians and speeder pilots right in the eye.

Thinking of Coruscant made her think of her mother. Master Bane and the others would have told her by this time; it was too late for her to do anything about the plan. Part of Gaya wished her mother could be with her; most of her was glad she wasn't. It would be just too humiliating for her mother to have to look at Ardan and speak to him; after all, as bad as this all was for Gaya, Niama was the one who had married him. Gaya bit her lip; the thought of him secretly laughing at her mother, over her tiny business and attempts at writing, while pretending to be in love with her, was just too much.

The Citadel loomed before them. Gaya, who had once been inside the old Imperial palace on Coruscant, was surprised at it. The old palace had been outwardly similar to the images she had seen of the old Sith temples from Bane the First's time- a complex of several pyramids atop a high foundation platform. Inside, she recalled, had been lavish, so opulent it made Sate Pestage's apartment on the base look like some homeless person's duraplast crate. She recalled finding it ironic and a little hypocritical that the language of the tour she, Niama, and Ardan had taken was careful to denounce Palpatine's regime, yet seemed to marvel at and admire his lifestyle, and that of the other Imperial elite. But the whole place had been heavy with tradition; that of the Sith in its structure, and that of the galaxy's upper class (in particular that of Naboo, the Emperor's home planet) in its interior.

There was nothing traditional about the Citadel. It was constructed of some kind of reddish metal, and clashed slightly with its verdant location. It had no appreciable architectural features- in fact, there was something industrial about it. It was an egg-shaped structure supported improbably and somehow grotesquely on a longer, much narrower shaft. Its "head" seemed to tilt at such an angle that it appeared to glare redly down at its surroundings. Gaya felt immediately that the sense of foreboding- partly due to the shadows that surrounded it in the Force- she had had since first approaching Byss was suddenly enhanced by about a thousand. She knew, as surely as she had ever known anything in her life, that she did not want to go in there.

She took another deep breath and tried to swallow her sudden nausea. Ever since she had been sent onto the planet in a smaller shuttle from a diplomatic New Republic ship, she had been dreading this moment. She knew the mission objective: to free the other apprentices, and to do her best to help apprehend Ardan using any means necessary. But she had no plan. She had never really been able to convince Ardan to do anything he didn't want to do.

She looked up at Ardan's Citadel, and realized how much she wished there was a plan to follow. She always felt better when she had a plan.


	20. Reunion

_The weird thing about this place,_ thought the part of Gaya's mind currently trying to calm down the rest of her mind by distracting it, _is that it looks way bigger from the inside._ She'd just been escorted- her status was apparently some weird combination of "guest" and "prisoner," judging by her guards' behavior- through yet another mostly empty, high-ceilinged room. She recalled that her apartment back on Coruscant had been small and cluttered with various reading material, in primitive codex-form and on discs, chips, and drives; here, and to some extent at Jaina's house, between the sheer size of the rooms and the organization of the objects in them, there was the impression of a lot of empty space. Perhaps, thought Gaya, that was one way of showing your wealth and power- you could afford to waste space.

This room was bigger, darker, and more impressive than the rest. It featured a giant circular window of the type that Gaya had always liked, up until now, and before it was a chair. The chair itself sat atop a tall, steep-looking dais. This room was probably the throne room, thought Gaya, or some such thing. It looked important.

To her surprise the chair was unoccupied, and she was marched through this room, as well. At last they seemed to arrive at their destination- a much smaller room that, if Gaya's mental floor plan of this place was correct (which she was not prepared to bet money on), might be behind the throne room. It was more brightly lit and less imposing; it didn't even contain a throne or any kind of console. It appeared to be a sitting room of some kind, like the room Jaina's parents had parties in, before dinner was ready and everyone moved to the dining room. Feeling perplexed, Gaya sank onto one of the couches, while the stormtroopers left and the red guards took up positions in each of the room's corners.

The room was silent; this whole place was silent, except for the occasional echo of feet on tiles. Gaya fought the urge to take out her reader from her pack- they had let her keep it, although they took the Temple-assigned lightsaber- and select a book. It would calm her down, but it would also distract her, she knew. She had to focus on the mission. What to do now? She had to find out where the prisoners were kept; more specifically, where Jaina, Cody, and the others were being held. That would be relatively easy; easier, anyway, than her other task.

_If he's going to listen to you, you can't alienate him,_ Master Bane had told her. _Believe me, I know all the things you're going to want to say to him. I know how he gets under your skin, and I know how he gets inside your mind. You have to resist. You have to make him trust you._

"Hello, Gaya." She felt herself getting short of breath again, as she heard that voice. _He sounds like…Ardan. Gods, he sounds normal._

_What am I supposed to say? "Nice armed Citadel you've got here"? I'm going to be all awkward with him- didn't sending a person who has terrible social skills at the best of times for this send up any red flags for Master Bane?_ She looked up as calmly as she could, trying to keep her mind blank; he could probably read it at least a little if he tried. "Um…hi."

She was aware of the awkward pause- the first of many, she was sure- and felt a sense of surprise that he seemed to be expecting her to say something more. At last, he seemed to get the message that there wasn't going to be anything else. "Leave us," he told the guards.

He smiled at her as he sat down across from her, and everything about him, except maybe his new robes, was _Ardan_. "I suppose this is all a bit…difficult to process at the moment, isn't it, Gaya?"

"Um…sort of, yeah." What answer was he expecting?

"I'm sure you have some questions for me," he prompted gently, because Ardan always knew how to get her to start talking. "I'll certainly do my best to answer them as well as I can without jeopardizing the security of this operation."

"I…um…well, I mean don't you think you kind of 'jeopardized' the operation when you attacked both Temples and then bragged about it on the HoloNet?"

He nodded. "That's true. Certainly a bit flashier than my usual style, wasn't it…but I do find I have so much more energy now. And of course, I needed to get a message out to you and your mother."

Gaya decided to abandon whatever game she had even been considering trying to play. This was just far too weird. She actually wondered momentarily if it was a dream. "How…um…how are you going to be…handling this whole…situation? As far as Mom is concerned?"

"Well, I hope she will be joining us here as soon as possible," he said matter-of-factly, as if this was only common sense. "I have been considering how best to achieve that. It's a difficult situation, because, as you rightly pointed out, Gaya, I behaved a bit recklessly on Coruscant. It may- it _will_ be difficult to spirit your mother offplanet as I managed to do with…your peers."

Gaya decided to go for broke. "Um, well, you know, it might help if, um, if you released a couple of people. I mean, you could do this thing where you would, I don't know, exchange Mom for them, or something? Like a prisoner exchange. Maybe Jaina and Jacen, at least to start with?"

He sighed heavily, looking weary and almost amused. "I'm afraid not, Gaya. That's why your sister sent you, isn't it?"

_My sister? Oh, right._ "Well, yeah. To be honest, she thought you might hesitate to kill me, as opposed to her or someone else."

"Well, she was right on that count." He rubbed a temple, Ardan-like. "Gaya, I have made mistakes where Mara-Jade is concerned. But you must understand that things are different between us- you, your mother, and I- than they ever were with her. From the very beginning."

"Why?"

"It is truly a long story." He shook his head. "Another time. Perhaps when you're older."

"What's going to happen to my friends?"

"They are extremely talented. Much like you. I have no intention of hurting them unless my hand is forced," he told her reassuringly. "I think they could be very useful."

"They're not useful. They're people."

He smiled again, sadly. "Another thing you may understand better in just a few more years."

Gaya felt anger flood her system in a rush. "Well, that's _bull_, Ardan- or whatever I'm supposed to call you now. I'm old enough _now_. I'm _sixteen!_ I mean I realize my, my prefrontal cortex or my frontal lobe, that's it, isn't finished developing yet or whatever, but _come_ _on_, Ardan or whoever you are. I understand plenty of what's going on here, and anyway, this is _crazy!_ I mean, you're telling me you're really Emperor Palpatine and you're essentially taking me and Mom away to your castle, and you're acting like we're talking about…I don't know, puberty or moving to another apartment or something!" Gaya leaned forward. "I mean, do you have any idea what this is going to be like for us? Especially if you…if you succeed? We just got comfortable- school is going great for me, and I have actual friends, and the Kimorra is starting to really turn a profit now, and-"

"Gaya, you don't need to worry about _those_ things," Ardan interrupted gently. "Now, young Mara did a surprisingly good job as far as your Force instruction is concerned, but I'll be taking that over- as well as the instruction of your friends. As for the Kimorra, I think it goes without saying that it will no longer be necessary for your mother to maintain it-"

"The point isn't that it's _necessary_-" Gaya perceived again the essential wrongness of this conversation. She felt as though they were somehow speaking two different languages… or as if Ardan was hearing some responses other than the ones she was giving. With a jolt, her psych profiling class caught up with her- _he's delusional. That's the real, clinical term. He's not hallucinating or anything, but I think he's having actual delusions._ She took a deep, shaky breath. Ardan- the Ardan she knew- had always been sane as a brick, and now he was living in some kind of alternate, fictional reality while ruining the lives of the people she cared about, as well as her own, plus of course everyone else in the galaxy's. Wait… "young Mara"…

"Wait a minute," she broke in angrily. "How the hell are you my _father_?"

He appeared momentarily perplexed at the non sequitur. "I…beg your pardon, Gaya?" The swearing had also probably upset him slightly. He'd never liked what he called "coarse language."

"Master Bane did a paternity test with the stuff they found at the crime scene where you killed Ms. Starkeller and Krix," Gaya elaborated. "She tested herself and Triclops, and then me. I think she had a feeling. She was suspecting something like this way before anybody else," she added with a sneer. "She never fell for any of your crap…_Sidious_. From the start. But I guess Mom and I are just a couple of stupid commoners, aren't we? What were we, like, your _pets?_ An _ego boost_, like I was for Chad and Krix?"

"Of course not," he retorted. "Now, Gaya, I understand you are tired and under stress and your Krandyn's Disorder causes you to become overwhelmed-"

"The _Krandyn's_? You think _that's_ why I'm not all like, 'oh thank you your majesty, I'm so honored to be the royal _pet'_? Because of the _Krandyn's_?" Gaya jumped to her feet. "Why don't you just go ahead and blame my _monthly cycle_ too, while you're at it?"

"I have no more patience for this," he declared. "It's clear to me that you are _overtired_, and we will speak again when you are calm and ready to discuss this like the mature young woman I know you are capable of being. The guards who brought you here will take you to your bedroom."

Gaya struggled not to let her mouth hang open. Even knowing who he really was, to be dismissed by Ardan was almost more than she could take. She wanted to scream, cry, and break all the elegant, expensive-looking furnishings around her with the Force, but even she could tell that that wouldn't help anything. She settled for trying to bore a hole in his head with her eyes until she was led from the room.

_Focus on the mission,_ she told herself. _Freeing my friends- and Chad, too, I guess…and finding out how that guy became my biological father._


	21. Learning a Lesson

Gaya was sulking. She considered this to be progress on her part. It meant she was diverting fear into anger; the quick, petulant kind that would pass through her and leave minimal emotional scarring.

Sitting curled on the bed in the rooms where the guards had left her, apparently having a meltdown, also gave Gaya the opportunity to surreptitiously check the security in the suite, at least the 'bedroom' part of it. She could see at least two undisguised security cameras, which Ardan could and probably would have argued were there for, well, security reasons. Still, they were invasive, and Gaya planned to cover them or short them out very soon.

And of course there were probably loads of visual and auditory monitoring devices she couldn't see. It was strange to think of Ardan spying on her, but in his current frame of mind, he'd probably rationalized that he was keeping her from hurting herself or making unwise decisions or something like that.

_Did he ever spy on me back home, at the apartment?_ She realized with a sudden chill that there was no way to know.

She needed to get out of this room. She needed to be _able_ to get out. She could try pretending she'd seen the error of her New Republican ways, of course…but she didn't feel confident of her lying abilities as far as Ardan was concerned. Besides, it was quite possible that he wouldn't buy it. Just because he was delusional definitely didn't mean he was stupid, and he'd known her since she was two years old. And he 'read' people way more complex than she was, practically for a living.

_I need someone on the inside. Problem is, __I'm__ supposed to be the one on the inside._

Just as she had begun to silently wrack her brain for ideas, there was a knock on the door of the front room. Gaya opened it to find a stormtrooper, and although it was difficult to be certain, it was possible- her instincts insisted on it, in fact- that he was the one she'd spoken to on the shuttle. "Hi," she said guardedly.

He was quiet for a moment, and seemed to shuffle a little. Then, he said, "Yes…greetings, Princess." _Princess._ That was going to take some getting used to.

"Our orders are that you should be under guard at all times, for your protection," he continued. He paused. "My men and I were wondering…it seemed to some of us that, since you are going to be here for some time, you should learn…where things are."

"Are you offering to give me a _tour_?" Gaya asked bluntly.

The trooper winced, slightly but visibly. Gaya wondered for a moment if clones could have Krandyn's Disorder. This was a level of social awkwardness she would have expected from…well, from herself. "You could call it that. We'll escort you. It won't actually be a breach of orders, _per se_." He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself.

Gaya nodded. "Thanks. That would be great," she told him, slipping out the door before he could change his mind.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going first?" she asked, voice echoing faintly in the low-ceilinged corridor.<p>

"Well, you were very disrespectful to his Imperial Majesty today," he told her matter-of-factly. "In fact, if I may be so bold, Your Grace, you were downright ungrateful." Gaya felt her anger flare, but she kept quiet, waiting.

"So," he continued, as the cloud of anxiety around him grew denser. "I want to show you where that sort of attitude will take you, here. So we've brought you to the cells."

Gaya felt a grin attempt to spread itself slowly across her face as she realized his game. She did her best not to show it, in case there were security cameras. "Uh, well, thanks, um…sir. I think I'm learning my lesson. Definitely."

"Of course, you aren't finished learning it yet, I expect, Princess," he told her pointedly. "I think it would be most effective if you were to come down here at regular intervals, to reflect on your good fortune. Maybe even a daily basis."

"Sure, that's a great idea," she agreed easily. "And you know what might really help? If I got to talk to some actual prisoners about what it's like in there. Maybe people I trust. Like my friends."

He nodded. "I'll just set up the console here so that you can read who is in each cell, Your Grace." He did this, and then left, along with his men, although Gaya knew they wouldn't go far. He wanted to help her, to repay her maybe for her concern for one of his own, but he had no interest in letting her escape.

She opened the small hatch in the door of the first cell. "Hey," she said, trying to sound cheerful. She did her best attempt at a dry, contemptuous Imperial accent. "You rebel scum."

"_Gaya?"_ Jaina ran to the hatch. "Is it really you?"

"Of course, who else would it be? I mean, look. I'm clearly me."

"Well, you could be one of Palpatine's mindfreaks. I mean, he hasn't tried that on us yet, but they say he can do it. What did you borrow from me for Mom's reception?"

"Earrings. Crystal ones."

"Okay. And where were you and Cody planning to go on your upcoming date?"

Gaya bit her lip. "That's…that's a trick question. I mean, he didn't…we're not going on any date."

Jaina looked mildly remorseful. "Sorry. I wanted to ask one trick question, just in case. Anyway, you seem like you."

"Okay. So…what happened? At the Temple?"

"He hacked the security alarm and broke in. Mr. Teta, I mean. Well, obviously he's the reincarnated Palpatine, we know that now, Cody explained to us his theory about the clones. Jacen said he sent troops to the Jedi Temple, and it worked because the masters were away and nobody was expecting it. But he came to our Temple personally. Anyway, he got through Witicca and everybody without even breaking a sweat, but I don't think they're dead." She paused. "He killed Master Apathian, Gaya."

"What?"

"He just…did it. They weren't even dueling at that point. He'd disarmed him. He just looked down at Apathian, and he had this really freaky look on his face, just this really scary look…and then he just sank the blade into Apathian's chest. Really slowly. Almost up to the hilt."

"He was getting revenge," Gaya told her hollowly. "For me…well, really for himself. All the stuff that people did to me…I think he sees it as some kind of thing against me and him both. He killed Ms. Starkeller, and those boys who used to bother me back at PS 180; I'm sure of it." She shook her head. "I mean, thank the Force he didn't know about-" she lowered her voice- "about Cody not wanting to go out. Or else who knows what he might've done to him."

"I wondered about why he decided to nab Chad along with us, but not Linxo or anyone," Jaina admitted. "He might have something nasty planned for him. Is Linxo okay?"

"Yeah, she was helping some of the first-years hide. So who exactly got taken, aside from you?"

"From our Temple, it's me, Cody, and Chad. Then from the Jedi one, Jacen. But Gaya, there's something else." She took a deep breath. "He took Annie, too."

"Your brother? The little one?"

"Yeah. He's here…_He_ ordered them to put us all in separate cells, but then Annie started crying and some of the stormtroopers came and put him in here with me, so at least that's good. He's asleep now." She looked as if she was about to cry. "Gaya, please make him let Annie go. I mean, it's different for me and Jacen, because, you know, we've had training and stuff. And we're older. But he's barely in primary school."

Gaya struggled for control over her sudden anxiety. Jaina had always been the one who was confident in her skills and didn't have meltdowns, and Gaya had always leaned on her. Now, her friend looked ready to crack, and that was the scariest thing yet. She wanted to promise Jaina that she'd get little Anakin Solo home, but she realized with dismay that she couldn't even guarantee that. "I'll…I'll try, Jaina, I promise. Look, Jaina, try to think. If there's anything you remember, or whatever, that could help me get us out of this…"

"Yeah. Absolutely. I'll try." Jaina seemed to pull herself together somewhat.

"Okay. I'm going to go talk to Cody now. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay." Now Jaina just looked worn out. "May the Force be with you."

* * *

><p>It came to Gaya that she hadn't spoken to Cody since he'd rejected her offer. It wasn't that she'd been giving him the silent treatment or anything like that, because even though she'd felt disappointed, angry, and humiliated enough to die on the spot, she understood that it wasn't his fault he didn't like her the way she liked him. It was just that after their last talk she had understood that her hopes for the relationship were never going to materialize, and the feelings Cody inspired in her were based on nothing. So she'd avoided him, but without resentment, in the same way that a recovering spice addict might avoid the planet Kessel. It wasn't him, it was her.<p>

Now she opened the hatch as slowly and carefully as she could. "Um. Hi."

His face appeared nearly immediately in the opening. "Gaya? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to try to get you all out of here. Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, I think so. Gaya, listen to me. Get away from here. Ardan- the man who was your stepfather-"

"He's Palpatine reborn. I know. That's why I'm here. I'm…he's not just my stepfather, Cody, he's also…he's my biological one, too. They don't know how, but they did some tests-"

"That won't save you. Or us," he cut in. "Gaya, you need to get away. Tell them to blast this place into dust. I came into contact with the Emperor before, and he'll kill or give up anyone else to further his own plans. Because he's a father figure to you, you think there's good in him somewhere, and because you're related to him you think he won't hurt you. Gaya, there is nothing he won't do to protect himself and his power. You have to get off this planet."

"I can't. I surrendered to him and now I don't think he'd let me leave even if I fed him a story about it. Listen…what are his plans for you guys, exactly?"

"I think we're hostages to keep you and Chancellor Organa in line," he explained. "But after he's retaken the Empire and won back his old systems- and eliminated the New Republic leadership- I think he wants to make us Dark Side Adepts. You know, those old Force-sensitives they find working as bounty hunters or trapped in lab facilities or whatever. Not quite Sith, but almost."

She nodded. "By the way, there's a squad of st- of clone troopers assigned to protect me, and they led me down here and let me talk to you. How can they disobey orders like that? I thought it was in their genes."

He nodded. "It is. But it's possible to resist. Most people don't know that, but it's true. Bucking the Code. They must like you."

"I asked them to contact your old unit and tell them you were okay. What's the Code?"

"That'd do it." He leaned in slightly. "Listen, don't ever talk about the Code to anyone, not even Jaina. Except maybe Master Bane, because she already knows about it. Some Imperials do. Like, I'm pretty sure Vader knew about it. But most of them don't. We teach it to each other, older guys teaching younger ones, starting when we learn to talk. The Code is like…it's rules about how we live and how we fight and everything like that. Like what your responsibilities are to your unit, and to your commanding officer, and to civilians and even prisoners and everything. Most of the rules are just our gene programming put into words, but some of it is…extra. Every clone knows it, at least in part. Every clone with a name knows the Code." He shook his head. "Breeders…I mean, 'normal humans,' sorry…they don't understand. From their perspective we're just biological droids. They don't see why we need to have names and a Code and everything just among ourselves, when we basically don't have a choice in what we do."

Gaya shrugged. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Everyone needs things like that. Like…paradigms, or something. To get them through the day, and to make them who they are. I mean, I figure it's like the Diversity Alliance. People think Krandyn's is just some disease, a disability like not having both legs or something. They don't understand why you need to feel proud to have it, why it has to be an identity thing."

He nodded. "I've begun to understand that. I realized it was like us and the Code that day at the rally. It…made me think a lot about life with my unit." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but didn't.

Gaya took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry I've been…not very sociable since then. It's not because I was mad at you or anything. I just…didn't know what to say. And I'm not going to tell Ard- _him_ about you and I; you know, I don't want to…to get back at you or anything like that. So don't worry."

"Gaya-" he paused, and then tried again. "Look, Gaya, you don't understand…about that day, the reason I said no…it wasn't because I didn't…I mean-"

"It's okay. I'd just rather not talk about it right now." Gaya wondered how much more time she had. She felt better with Cody here; the thought of going back to her quarters alone- or worse, meeting with this new personality wearing Ardan's face- made her stomach turn. "So," she said, to prolong the conversation (the first time in her life she'd ever actively sought to increase the amount of immediate socializing in her life). "How do you know Palpatine? You mean, like, personally?"

He looked down. "He's your father. I'm not going to-"

"It won't bother me, I promise. Please, I'm really curious."

He looked up into her face and sighed. "All right."


	22. Cody at the Temple

The old Jedi Temple loomed large in the shuttle's viewport. Around them, the thin rain of Coruscant fell. To Cody, it looked as if the Temple was weeping. For a moment, he thought he heard distant sobs and general lamentation emanating from it. He tried to pretend he heard nothing, so he wouldn't seem crazy.

Everyone knew what the Empire did to crazy clones.

Then he remembered who was in the shuttle with him. Well, obviously Burninator, standing protectively over Spaz, who had stopped moaning but wouldn't unfold himself from his crouch, or stop tapping. The officers clearly wished that the other two passengers in the shuttle would electrocute or choke Spaz, just to make him stop. Turning periodically to stare at him, their glares ran the gamut from annoyed to nervous to openly repulsed.

Cody was used to the officers' contempt. It was mirrored in the way all of them- even Spaz, in his way, though almost no one could ever tell what he really thought of anything- felt about most officers.

Cody gulped. He was far from a coward, luckily, this being an unpardonable sin among his kind, but he was young, smaller than the others from his batch due to his nonfunctional accelerated-growth gene, and besides, he'd heard things about the Sith. Namely, they could read your mind without even looking at you. There was a good chance both of the two additional passengers knew exactly what he was thinking, right now.

He darted a glance at the tall figure, standing just a meter or so in front of him, black armor and cloak like an obsidian statue, breath like some kind of undead…well…monster. He bent his head slightly, in case the man had heard that. But then, the purpose of Lord Vader's appearance was, at least in part, to look scary.

And yet Vader wasn't the one to fear, from a trooper's perspective. The wraithlike Sith did deal out terminal punishment on a regular basis, true, but most of it was directed at the officers, a definite plus from the typical infantryman's point of view. There was also the matter of his onetime apprentice, the Princess Mara-Jade. Vader's apprentices didn't last long, but this one had lasted longer than most, and she had escaped instead of being killed (or so the rumors went). Mara-Jade was in relatively thick with the troopers as a whole, since she had befriended the legendary Commander Cody and the men of his unit, and since (again, the rumors went) she had lost her virginity to Dack, another mutant clone like young Cody, who had risen to officer rank through superior intelligence.

Besides, Vader just seemed to understand that threatening and patronizing clones didn't work. He almost reminded people of one of the Old Republic Jedi in the way he interacted with his troops, although Cody had to take the others' word for that, since he was too young to have known the Jedi.

And even if Vader had been a fountain of clone abuse, he still would have been better than the shadowy, already somewhat hunched figure beside him. Cody gave an involuntary shiver and tried to keep his mind blank.

He felt Burninator bend down to him and smelled the stench of his hand-rolled cigar on his breath. "Listen, Cody. In there…if anything…if anything, you know, happens or goes wrong, I want you to run. Forget me. Take Spaz with you if you can, but above all, get the hell out."

"But what about"-

"The Code? Kriff the Code. Remember Twitch? And Kos?"

"Are they going to do that to us?"

"I don't know what's gonna happen to us. But if something does, get out. I'm a damn sociopath, and Spaz is…well, I don't even know what Spaz is. But you've got potential. We got your name right, boy. You're Cody, come back to us again. You're going to be something big someday. So when the time comes, you get yourself the hell out."

* * *

><p>Their footsteps echoed in the dark, empty, cavernous Great Hall. Cody thought he'd never been in such a grand, mournful, <em>huge<em> old building before. The feelings of sorrow and the memory of suffering and carnage were now a roar in his ears, as if they were actual, physical sound. Not only that: he was seeing things out of what Kos from the unit called the "corner of his eye." When he blinked or turned his full gaze in their direction, they were gone.

They looked like…bones. Sometimes, they were corpses, sometimes in various states of decomposition. Cody struggled not to become physically ill. It was like walking on a battlefield, but worse. He felt a pang of shame at being such a coward, that the mere historical fact of violence in a place could induce such physiological and psychological effects. Why did he always have to be so _sensitive?_

The officers and syncophants, except for Vader, didn't follow them past the foyer, where the emergency lighting strips ended. Beyond them were only shadows. The emperor himself led them on now. Cody felt something bad coming. He thought he might know- or at least suspect- what. And he suspected why this was happening to him, Spaz, and Burninator. He'd heard the others talking; it had happened to Kos, after some officer found out about his Zabrak _boyfriend_ (Cody hated that word; it was such a juvenile term for something that, to a clone trooper with no true home or family besides his unit, was almost more important than the Code itself). He'd heard men from other units suspecting it would someday happen to Klepto- in his case, the reason would be summed up in his name.

It had already happened to Twitch, although Cody didn't remember him much.

The Empire- no, that wasn't right; it was the _emperor_ and not the _Empire_, because the two were not the same at all. The Code explained that. It was very specific.

_Emperor Palpatine_ wanted them out of his army.

_But why?_ He wanted to ask Burninator, but didn't out of the fear that he'd be heard. _We all fight, even Spaz fights and can follow orders if you explain them right for him. Why should they care if we're not…prime specimens, as long as we function?_

_Besides, this is the Emperor we're talking about. If he wants to weed us out, he could just kill us. Actually, he could just have us killed. He wouldn't even need to get directly involved. He certainly doesn't need to drag us in secret to some abandoned place where no one can see_. He wondered what it would be like to die.

The five of them– the Emperor, Vader, Burninator, Spaz, and Cody- had come to the center of the hall, probably close to the central point of the entire Temple. As Cody's eyes adjusted to the gloom, he felt himself grow cold with horror.

An enormous pile of gleaming white skulls sat squarely in the center of the floor, at the intersecting point of the four vaulted halls of the Temple's main level. The pile had to be at least three meters high, with its contents spread out to the corners of the space.

A figure was lying still on the flattish top of the skull-heap. As they stared, transfixed, it sat up slowly. Cody realized it was a human, or at least a humanoid; a young woman. She was slender and petite, with skin as white as the bones around her. Her hair was a long, thick, matted veil hanging down her back and draped over the skulls; if she stood, it would just about reach her knees. It was a rusty auburn color, like a drop of blood slowly dissipating in a bowl of water. When she did stand up and slowly descend down the pile to them, he saw that her face was angular, with high cheekbones and red lips. Her eyes were dark emerald green, looking almost black from a distance, peering at them from under long eyelashes and arching brows, with an interest devoid of any emotion or concern. She was beautiful, but strangely; it was a ghastly elegance that Cody felt attracted to but did not like.

He realized Vader was kneeling on the tile, and Burninator had joined him. So, to his surprise, had the Emperor. Cody sank to his knees too, without knowing why, except that if even the Emperor was doing it, it was probably a good idea. But who was this strange woman? The Emperor's mistress? Was the kneeling some kind of bizarre role-playing game between them? Aside from the fact that the Emperor "doing it" with anyone was too disgusting to think about in any detail, somehow this all seemed a bit too 'out there,' even for him.

Spaz had flattened himself against one of the far walls, and then crumpled into the fetal position in a corner. Cody realized that Spaz already knew what had just occurred to him: this woman was dangerous.

From where she now sat, on some skulls near the base of the pile, the woman reached out- Cody didn't see her arm move, but in a way he couldn't explain, he _felt_ the reaching- and snatched Burninator. Cody realized he had to move, to save him, or even to run as Burninator had ordered, but he couldn't. He could barely look away as the screams and the sounds echoed down all four different hallways.

The screaming continued; he realized it was Spaz. He didn't dare open his eyes, though, because he knew what he'd find if he looked at the woman. Once, he half-opened them for a second, saw all the red everywhere, nearly vomited, and shut his eyes again. Now, carefully, he turned and opened his eyes slowly in Spaz' direction.

He heard Spaz' screams cut off with a croaking sound, and saw Spaz begin to panic silently, hands searching his own neck for the object he could feel wrapped tightly around it. Cody felt rather than saw the invisible fist cutting off his airway, but couldn't reach it himself.

The Emperor, watching Spaz struggle, rounded on Vader. "Vader, _stop_-"

The heavy respiration sounds of Vader's suit stopped.

For a moment, there was what felt like a hungry silence. Then, the suit began a high-pitched, airy whine. Cody saw Vader struggling- in a manner similar to that in which Spaz had just a moment ago- with his suit; the hand not Force-choking Spaz was fumbling with the controls and switches, trying to correct whatever the problem might be. When he apparently discovered nothing wrong, the same hand began to claw at the helmet and hose. His other hand released Spaz and joined it, as his body fell backward off his knees and slumped weakly against a column.

"_Master_," the Emperor hissed. Cody turned to look at whoever he was referring to; after seeing the woman (and being sick at the sight of Burninator's body), he realized Palpatine was addressing her. Always pale, the old man's face was now white. His pale tongue flicked uneasily over his thin lips, causing him to resemble a reptile of some kind. Cody saw his throat twitch as he swallowed hard, his face containing a mixture of uncertainty, calculation, hatred, and subdued horror. "Master, stop it. _Please_." As terrified and sick at heart as he felt, Cody had to suppress a smile at the way Palpatine choked bitterly on the words.

The woman spared him barely a glance, and the whine of Vader's suit ceased, replaced by its usual rhythmic rasping. Vader sagged further against the column, hands flat on his chest, as if feeling his lungs slowly reinflating.

Cody felt, rather than heard, her voice in his head. Control your apprentice, Sidious.

"Yes, Master," Palpatine muttered, glaring at Vader.

She indicated Cody and Spaz with a halting gesture. I don't want them.

Palpatine looked up at her inquisitively. "Master?"

_I don't want them!_ The force of the statement caused them all to recoil. Get me an officer. Not a clone. Or I'll have him instead. She indicated Vader.

"But, Master-" began Palpatine.

The woman Force-pulled Vader across the floor and into her arms as if he was weightless. Her hands investigated his helmet, suit, and cape with a curiosity that seemed half academic and half…well, according to what he'd heard, Cody suspected that such curiosity was the definition, in some parts of the galaxy, of the term "sexual harassment."

Palpatine hesitated another long moment, and then Cody saw him speaking into a comlink, asking for someone named Assant. He didn't catch the military rank.

There was more silence, and then the woman said, You will not bring me any more clones, Sidious. Or prisoners of war. Not until I say you can.

"But, Master-" he began again.

Silence! And the walls seemed to tremble. I am not a means of execution, Sidious. I am not a tool for disposing of beings you want dead…I want a Force-sensitive next time.

"But Master, those with Force-sensitivity are so rare! Besides, you already have the boy-"

I don't care. And Cody thought, _Wait…is he talking about me?_

I want one of your Dark Side Adepts.

Palpatine sighed slightly, in the manner of one who has had this discussion before. "My Master, listen to me, please: the Dark Side Adepts are _not_ Sith, and they have nothing to do with any…_rebellious notions_ on my part, they only exist to help me to further our-"

"Our"?

Palpatine recoiled visibly as he seemed to realize that, for the first time in years, he had said something wrong. "I misspoke, my Master- you don't understand-"

There was a change in the air. Palpatine, resting a hand on a column as if to steady himself, didn't exactly scream, but he did let out a strangled gasp. Cody realized parts of the old man's body were jerking and writhing, faintly and spasmodically. It was only a few seconds, but it was horribly clear to Cody what had just happened. She had done something to his body; his nerve endings, or something like that.

I understand everything, Sidious.

Someone was walking toward them, footsteps echoing on the tile. Cody realized it was one of the junior officers, nondescript in his gray uniform and pasty, somewhat doughy features, which blanched as he took in the scene. "My lord, what-"

She tossed Vader aside and grabbed the officer, Assant or whatever his name was, easily, and again Cody looked away until the screaming stopped.

These two will stay here, she told Palpatine as she wiped the blood from her mouth almost genteelly with a handful of Vader's cape. You would only try to kill them again. It is you, Sidious, who have no understanding. She sat back, satisfied. Remember the Dark Side Adept for next time. Now- you and your apprentice- get out of my sight.

When they were gone, she turned to Cody. I am Darth Bane. I am your new master. She gestured to him, indicating Spaz. Now go and comfort your brother. He did so, with the knowledge that he hadn't defended Burninator, or comforted Spaz before now. In the eyes of the Code, he was a coward, the worst thing you could be. He realized he could never face his unit, or any fellow clone, again. Luckily- in that sense, at least- he realized he would probably never again get the opportunity.


	23. A Chat

The clone captain, whose name Cody did not ask, knowing that it would only make things harder for the man, stepped just into the low doorway. "The Emperor will see you."

"I have no desire to see him."

"He wants to see you." _After all, what could he say to that? _Cody mused. The unspoken understanding of obedience felt strange after his time at the Temple, where people either stood with you or shouted you down. He followed his guards out of the cell.

* * *

><p>The room he was herded into wasn't even in the Emperor's apartments. He didn't wait for the invitation to sit, not because his legs were tired – he'd been glad to walk up here, in spite of himself, because his legs had gotten restless – but to show Palpatine that, clone though he was, he didn't give a damn who was in charge here. He might be barely compliant, but that didn't mean any respect was forthcoming.<p>

As if Palpatine cared how Cody felt about him. "You spoke with Gaya today."

Cody didn't bother to respond. He focused on the strangeness of Palpatine speaking to him from behind Ardan Teta's face. He thought back to Life Day at Gaya's flat. Ardan had been gruff, protective of Gaya (or so Cody had assumed), but he'd seemed to warm to Cody in time, perhaps after witnessing his treatment of Gaya. Cody knew Gaya had never dated; never even come close. _Not until me_. Again, regret shot through him. He did his best to banish the thought.

Palpatine said, "What does she think of what has happened?" As an afterthought, he ordered, "Answer me this time, boy."

Cody decided there was no point in lying. "She feels betrayed. You lied to her and her mother for years. She thinks you kept them around as…pets. Or a kind of personal joke. She wants things to go back to the way they were, and you destroyed that."

"She no longer trusts me."

"Oh, _really?_"

Even Palpatine looked mildly surprised at the force of Cody's sarcasm. At last he said, with eerie calmness, "Careful, boy." He took another breath, perhaps to remain calm, and continued, "You will explain to her that this way is better. She would listen to you."

"She's not an idiot. Even if I did that, she'd know it was your words. And even if she somehow believed I really thought that, it still wouldn't change her mind." Cody was getting angry. "You know, you put on a really great show of loving her, but your performance is showing some serious cracks. Deep down, you think she's just as brainless as everyone else in the galaxy seems to you. Just as brainless, and just as useless."

He was almost not conscious of his body flying from the couch – all he registered was the _crack_ and the pain as his head hit the wall. He began sinking down, and a pair of hands jerked him upright by the neck. They were connected to Palpatine, who shoved him against the wall once more for good measure. "You little bastard. Do you imagine I don't know what's gone on between the two of you? Do you think that my bringing you here, meeting with you as if you were a real person, a real man – do you actually believe that it means I have anything approaching respect for you? Do you think I wouldn't be delighted to subject you to a slow and painful death, for the things you've only _thought_ of doing to her alone? The only reason you are still alive and intact is that my daughter prefers you that way, and I will not give her another reason for anxiety. I am tolerating you, boy. Do not test my patience."

Cody summoned his courage. Telling Palpatine the truth was probably akin to a death wish at this point, but frankly, he'd be damned if he'd let someone like Palpatine cow him. "Gaya and I aren't involved. She asked me out, and I told her no."

Palpatine's eyes widened momentarily, but then his expression seemed to freeze in a look of homicidal good nature, and his tone went from snarling to silken. "Really?" He gave Cody's throat a squeeze, not quite constrictive enough to prohibit talking, like a warm-up. "And why did you do that?"

"Because of you," Cody snarled. "You really think nobody knew what you and your bootlicking cronies did with the guys who had girlfriends? Or boyfriends, either? It's Imperial policy – it was, anyway, and for all I know it still is. You think nobody knew what happened to the partners, either? What if I ever went back there? What if I couldn't handle being apart from my brothers? What would happen to her?" He snorted mirthlessly. "Who wrote that Imperial policy? Who signed off on it? Who _fed_ the rule-breakers to _Bane_ –"

"Enough." Palpatine let go, and allowed him to slide to the floor. "Get out. Take him away," he snapped at Cody's reappearing clone guards. "Back to his cell. Get him out of my sight." Cody thought Palpatine might possibly be trembling with rage, but he couldn't see the man well enough as his brothers hurried him out the door.


	24. A Proposition

Gaya paused a moment outside the door, as if momentarily unsure of herself. A casual observer – like the clone captain whose men were charged with her safety – might notice how different she looked since she had last left her quarters. Her brown hair was freshly washed, curling slightly as it air-dried. She had changed into an elegant gown that was black, so dark it was like a hole in reality. It flowed elegantly, partly because it was slightly too big for her, the measurements it had been made according to being several months old. The observer would notice small and tasteful pieces of jewelry about Gaya's person, and he might also notice that her lips were redder than usual, not painted-looking but tinted. There was a thin shadow around her eyes that suggested kohl or mascara. There was a suggestion of perfume.

But the greatest change was none of these. Gaya now emitted the aura of someone who had lost her fear, not out of confidence, but out of quiet, burning desperation. She was still far from invincible, but all the same, the observer noted mentally, he'd hate to be between her and her goal.

Gaya paused, contemplatively. After a minute, she turned to the captain. "I've never asked anyone to do this before," she said carefully, as if trying hard to speak purposefully. "But…captain, could you…announce me?"

The captain nodded and then, realizing he was still wearing his helmet, replied, "Yes, your Grace." Gaya stiffened slightly at the title, but seemed to accept it. The captain stepped forward and pressed a small button on the wall beside the door. It emitted a tonally pleasing but audible sound in the room beyond, which could be heard from the corridor.

A droid ushered them in, and the captain said, "Her Imperial Grace, Princess Gaya Viviani Palpatine, to see his Imperial Lordship, Prime Minister Sate Pestage."

Pestage had risen from his seat; now, his gaze was fixed on Gaya with a mixture of curiosity, guardedness, amusement, and attraction. "What can I do for her Grace?"

Gaya took a small deep breath. "I had a few…questions for you. Issues I wanted to discuss. I thought you would be the best person to help me. Unless you're too busy."

"Not at all." His old face was crinkling into a smirk. "Please, your Grace, sit."

"Thank you." Gaya turned to her guards. "I'll be all right. Could you…wait outside, please?" She wanted to tell them they could go on a break, but she wasn't sure if troopers were allowed to have breaks. "Please," she repeated, as firmly as she could, and did her best to stare up at them until they reluctantly trooped out.

They were alone in the sitting room now. It was deep red, and the color scheme, plus its apparent windowlessness, made it seem dark and closed-in, like a lair. It was quiet, too. Gaya couldn't hear the sounds from the corridor at all.

Pestage had sat back down, and he was gazing at her. At last, he broke the silence. "I know you. I've seen you before. I remember your face." As Gaya tried to think how to respond, he snapped his fingers so loudly that she had to conceal a flinch. "You were one of the apprentices. That day at Eidolon Base. With Mara-Jade."

"Yes, I was there. I'm sorry for the way she acted, by the way. It must have been…embarrassing."

He waved this aside. "You had nothing to do with that, child. No, your old master – your half-sister as well, I suppose – and myself…we go back quite far. I've known her since the day she came to your father's court, and if I may say so, she never had the…temperament for her station. The breeding, I suppose." The corners of his mouth rose slightly. "She was never a well-mannered young lady like you."

Gaya tried to smile. She suspected she looked nervous, but it occurred to her that he might enjoy that. "Well…thank you. For saying so."

"Would you like a drink?" The question caught her off guard, even though she had anticipated it as a possibility.

She started to refuse, and then stopped herself. "Actually…yeah. Yes, please. I would, thanks."

"So would I." He started to stand up.

"Wait. Why don't I get them?" She shrugged in response to his inquisitive look (or so she assumed it was; he radiated inquisitiveness in the Force). "My mother runs a cantina. I know my way around a bar." Maybe that would seem more seductive, or something. She could remember how to make two cocktails; she remembered part of a third. She made the first of the two. "Is this all right?"

He accepted the glass from her. "Very. You are a surprising person, Princess." Gaya took a sip of the drink for appearances' sake, and to calm her nerves, and then set it down on a low table near her chair.

"As I said before, I had something I wanted to discuss with you. It's kind of a…proposition, really." She paused. "Is this room…secure? You know – no listening devices? From my father, or anything?"

"Of course."

Gaya took a deep breath, fighting the urge to drink more. "Prime Minister Pestage, I know that you don't know me and have no reason to trust me. But you seem like a person with ambition, and…and vision, and so I have a proposition. My father wants to resurrect the old Galactic power structure, with him as the supreme ruler. You and I both know that because of his cloning operations, he could rule forever.

"As his legitimate daughter, I should be his heir. But if he rules forever, obviously that title is meaningless. Now, with the New Republic in possession of his cloning facilities, my father is more vulnerable to death than usual." She paused. "If anyone was going to depose him, now would be the time."

"True; hypothetically, at least." He shifted. "But tell me, Princess. I understand what such a plan would do for you. But I have been your father's counselor since long before either you, or your half-sister, or your half-brother – or, I suspect, even your mother – were born. If you were to take the throne, I would simply become your Prime Minister. So what is my motivation?"

"I don't know how to rule an empire. I'm sixteen years old. Besides, I don't need absolute power. Just enough to take care of my family and friends, and to do some good for some causes I care about. So I'd need a co-ruler." She paused again, and this time she did take another sip of the drink. It made her throat feel warmer, and she did feel calmer. "Maybe even an…Emperor Consort."

The silence resumed. At last, Pestage said, "And what is your motivation, Princess?"

"I thought I already-"

"You don't seem the regicidal type."

Gaya looked down into her glass, and then up into his face, as close to his eyes as possible. "My motivation? My motivation is this: he broke my Mom's heart. She's had a hard life. So have I, come to think of it. He used us as his cover, and he's still going to use us, so he can pretend to himself that he's some kind of family man. He uprooted our lives without a second thought. And even before that…there were times when we struggled to stay afloat. He had money stashed away all along that could have saved my Mom some serious stress. And he could've gotten me out of public school, where I had some of the worst experiences of my life. And all the while, he claimed he loved us." Her throat felt closed-up, and it was stinging. She sat for a moment, choking back the crying, until she was calm again. "And…I trusted him. We trusted him, Prime Minister, and he tricked us both, especially me, and he made a fool of me. And I won't claim that people making a fool of me isn't an experience I've had before in my life, because it is. But…it's not happening anymore. It ends here. Here and now."

He was watching her intently. At last he drained his glass and said quietly, "I understand."

"You believe me?"

"I have seen the lust for vengeance before," he intoned softly. "Never – or rarely – in a female, especially one as young as you. But I still think I can recognize it, in your face." The depth of his seriousness hit her like a ton of duracrete, especially the way he was looking at her. A shiver went through her; she hoped he hadn't seen it. She realized it wasn't a bad shiver, necessarily. It was just a shiver.

She tried to relax. She considered taking another sip of her drink. "Then…I can count on your support."

"Perhaps." He leaned toward her slightly. "The rewards of loyalty to your father are immediate. But my reward for conspiring with you is…distant; ill-defined. And, of course, contingent on your ability to kill him."

The shiver had completely disappeared; now, the thought that it had ever existed made her feel nauseous – or was it the alcohol? She reminded herself she was dangerous; she knew Teras Kasi and, since she still didn't have her lightsaber, she had concealed a knife from dinner in her dress. But she didn't feel dangerous, not right now. She felt small. "Well, I'm confident that I could. He seems to care if I live or die. I can use that."

"Your confidence is reassuring." In unison, they both looked down at his hand, which had placed itself on her knee. "However, I will require a small…gesture of good faith."

Gaya had never imagined she could move so fast. One instant, the alcohol in her glass was splashing onto Pestage's face; in the same movement (when had her coordination gotten so good?) she had grabbed the knife-handle and was brandishing it as she launched herself out of her chair, barely registering the sound of her hem ripping.

"You little _bitch_," he snarled, sputtering and trying to dry his eyes on his sleeve.

"Don't take it personally, my lord," said Gaya's mouth, seemingly without interference of any kind from her brain. "I'm not ready to make that level of commitment to the plan yet. I hope you'll consider what I've said anyway, though."

It would have been a surprisingly and admirably cool closing remark, she considered later, had she then been able to open the door, either with the panel beside it or by wrenching it open with the Force, and run out into the hall. But it seemed to be locked, and although Gaya had moved and bent plenty of things with the Force in class back at the Temple, it was difficult to focus on the door enough to do more than cause a small indentation in the metal sheet, such as one could make with a hammer and a few determined swings.

He was on her then, the back of her head hitting the door hard as he slammed her against it. After a few seconds of ineffectual struggling, her brain seemed to wake up and told her leg to kick Pestage in the one place any male couldn't help but take notice of. He crumpled momentarily, but it was enough time for her to break his grip, strike him again, and and position the knife so that when he renewed his attack, she could more easily slash at him. Again, he reeled back as he clutched his face, covering the two red gashes she had managed to leave.

She ran, knowing as she did so that she was only buying time and using up valuable energy. If this suite was like hers, and there was no reason to think it wouldn't be, knowing the level of originality in most Imperial architecture, there would be no other entrances or exits. She had to get through the door somehow…

She ran into the refresher and locked the door manually as an idea came to her. Pushing a hamper and what looked like a container of bath salts in front of the door, she sat down cross-legged on the tile floor and visualized the sitting room, and the front door. She reached out in the Force until she could feel it, even the indentation she'd left.

She imagined the Force coming together into a hammer-like form, and hitting the door on the exact spot where she had left the indentation. She thought she could feel the impact, but without sticking her head out the refresher door and looking, which was a bad idea at the moment, she couldn't be sure. Banishing her doubt as best she could, she sank back into the mental image and tried again.

Sometime later – it felt like waking up, or like coming back up through deep water – she stopped visualizing and stood up, taking a moment to stretch and bend some feeling back into her legs. While under, she had been totally dead to the world; now, it was hard not to be overwhelmed by the insistent pounding on the door. He was about to break through.

Cutting off as much of her voluminous skirt and sleeves as she could and tucking the rest of the skirt into the waistband of her underwear, she pushed the hair out of her face and readied her stance, raising the knife.

He came through the door and barreled into her, a result of momentum as much as lust, and she drove the knife in. She didn't wait to see exactly where it had gone in, but vaulted past him to the chairs. She leapt onto one, knowing that she could usually launch herself either up or across, but not both, not yet, and threw herself at the door, slamming her full weight on the spot where the indentation had become a hole. Pain flooded her shoulder as it connected with the metal. There was a crash.

She didn't realize she had blacked out momentarily until she looked up and saw Pestage standing over her, the knife still stuck in his shoulder. She felt afraid for about a second, until she realized he wasn't charging at her, or even looking at her. His gaze was focused above her head. She looked directly up and realized there were stormtroopers standing behind her. Stormtroopers surrounded them, standing in a ring around them both. Their blasters were pointed at Pestage.

Gaya might have gotten worried about Ardan learning what she'd done, but at that moment she was too full of adrenaline and euphoria to care. She was shaking gently. She felt light-headed, and then she felt a strong urge to sleep, and half-realized that she was blacking out again, before she did.

* * *

><p>Gaya awoke in bed in her room at the Citadel. It was a testament to the efficiency of the suite's surveillance devices that she had been awake for about five minutes before the bedroom door slid open soundlessly and Ardan stalked in.<em> "What the bloody hell did you think you were doing in there?" <em>He had gone from fair to white, and he was shaking slightly.

Gaya rubbed her head – there was a bandage there – and tried to respond through the mental fog. "You…you didn't give me a choice."

"Rubbish," he snapped. "Gaya, if your goal was to…to punish me in some way by getting yourself…if that was some damn passive-aggressive attempt at punishing me or getting me to give you whatever you want, you're a hell of a lot less intelligent than I thought you were."

"You're the one who plays mind games, not me."

"This is not about anything I have done! This is about…about what happened in there! You were with your sister when they arrested Pestage, you knew what he was capable of, why the hell would you – would you even suggest something like that as an option for someone like him –"

"I wasn't going to do anything with him. I just thought he'd be more likely to help me if I implied that in the future -"

"I suspect the distinction escaped him!"

"This is bull." Gaya pushed herself up against the pillows. "You were going to make Master Bane marry him. What the hell's different about this situation? You weren't consulted beforehand?" She paused. "The rooms – Pestage's rooms – they're soundproof, right? I couldn't hear the hall when I was in there. So how did all the stormtroopers gather so fast, and know who to point their guns at and everything? You do have bugs in Pestage's rooms, don't you?"

He snorted. "Of course I do. I'm not an idiot."

"So you knew what was going on and you left me in there!"

"I only found out halfway through. And I wanted to see what you would do." He smirked grimly. "You can hardly expect to run an empire if you can't even defend yourself from one old man who isn't even Force-sensitive."

"I won't ever run the Empire. You know that."

"Oh no? You prefer the glorious New Republic that cheated you out of a proper education, that accused you of murder, that _restrained you forcefully_ –"

"Oh please. You never did anything for…people like me when you were in charge. You didn't even do anything for women. You never purposefully helped anyone unless you benefited as a direct result. Besides, that's not what I meant. I know you plan to rule forever. Aside from the actress playing the part of 'royal daughter' in the comedy skit that is 'Palpatine Pretends He Feels Love and Other Normal Emotions,' I'll never be anything in your world."

He stopped and seemed to be thinking about what she had said, for the first time. At last, he asked, "Is that what all this has been about?"

"What?" Gaya was taken aback. "What do you mean, 'all this'?"

"What we've been doing since you arrived. The arguing, the insults, the stubbornness…" He paused. "Gaya, was what you said to Pestage true? Do you fear being in Mara-Jade's position?"

"What? No! Of course that's not what this is all about!" But even as Gaya said it, a part of her felt as if she was lying. "No, this is about you kidnapping people and committing treason! This is about you lying to everyone, especially me!"

He regarded her as he'd been doing; calmly, but also carefully. It bothered her because it made her less angry. "So what'd you do with Pestage?" she asked to distract them both.

Ardan's expression darkened. "He has been dealt with."

"The conspiracy bit was my fault, you know."

"I don't believe he would ever have actually helped you bring me down. He intended to use you."

"You know, you really did try to force Master Bane to marry him. And now you've punished him. It really is hypocritical."

"I thought she might enjoy some power," he snapped. "Pestage had almost as much as me. And she would have controlled him, if she knew what to do, which she did."

"She didn't want some guy's power. She wanted her own. In your Empire, that wasn't possible." Gaya shook her head. "Did you really think she'd be happy as some kind of…glorified twilighter?"

He sank into a chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples for a while. At last, he said, "What do you want, Gaya?"

Gaya took a deep breath. "Release Jacen and Jaina's little brother. Anakin. He's just a little kid. He doesn't understand what's been going on. Jaina and Jacen can take care of themselves, but he can't."

She watched him take a long, deep breath, and let it out slowly.


End file.
